


A Pleasant September Day

by this_wayward_life



Series: Conundrum [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Art as a Coping Mechanism, Artist Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Drug Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bucky Barnes, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Like Jesus Christ She's So Awful, M/M, Music as a coping mechanism, Musician Steve Rogers, Mutual Pining, Past Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Russian Bucky Barnes, Sharing a Bed, Sharon Carter Is Literally The Devil, Slow Burn, Top Steve Rogers, implied/referenced PTSD, sexual fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 20:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20159941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_wayward_life/pseuds/this_wayward_life
Summary: Steve Rogers remembered the first time he'd set eyes on Bucky Barnes like it was yesterday.





	A Pleasant September Day

**Author's Note:**

> So this took me a lot longer than I thought it would, but whatever.
> 
> This is The Conundrum Of Love, as told by Steve's point of view.  
Warnings include:  
Mentions of rape  
Homophobia  
Explicit Sexual Content

Steve remembered the first time he laid eyes on Bucky Barnes like it was yesterday. It was a pleasant September day, just after the start of the school year. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and it was surprisingly cloudless. Steve's day was going pretty well - his dad was sleeping off a hangover when Steve was getting ready for school, so Steve didn't have to deal with him. He didn't miss the bus. As soon as he got to school, the receptionist pointed him in the direction of the vice principal's office, and he managed to not get lost on the way there.

The vice-principal was a short, round man in his fifties, with a perpetually runny nose and a combover. His office smelled of disinfectant and bleach. Steve instinctively wrinkled his nose when he stepped through the entranceway. 

"Steve Rogers, I presume?" the man said, standing up and shaking Steve's hand. He was almost a head shorter than Steve, and his palm was sweaty.

"Uh, yeah," Steve replied, surreptitiously wiping his hand on his jeans as they both sat down. "Nice to meet you."

"You came here from Mexico City, correct?" the man asked, looking at Steve over his glasses.

"We weren't there for very long," Steve admitted. "But yeah. Dad wanted to get back to Brooklyn for a little while."

The vice-principal nodded. "Also, you will have to have your computer set up to the school system. When class ends today, look for Tony at the IT office. He may be a student, but he's the most gifted with technology." He shuffled some of the papers on his desk. He dislodged a few and handed them over the desk to Steve.

"These are your timetable, a map of the school, and the handbook given out on orientation," the vice-principal explained, pushing the glasses up his nose. "I will escort you to your first class, but if you have any problems after that, just ask Mrs Martinelli at the front desk."

"Thank you, sir," Steve said, studiously avoiding eye contact and leafing through the papers. The vice-principal stood up and waddled across the office, motioning for Steve to follow him. The hallways were almost empty, and Steve stuffed the papers into his backpack as he walked. The vice-principal had started talking again, but Steve tuned him out to map out his surroundings. Basically all the hallways looked the same, with large, sparkly posters everywhere, advertising about a dance at the end of the year. Why they were up ten months before the dance was meant to take place, Steve had no idea. 

Finally, the vice principal opened a classroom door, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he went. Steve wrinkled his nose again but followed him. The classroom had about twenty-two students in it, all looking as if they'd rather be anywhere but there. The noise that was audible from the hallway died down when they entered, and Steve fought the urge to shrink into himself. The teacher, a meek-looking young woman, shook hands with the vice principal.

Movement caught Steve's eye from the corner of the room. A girl with curly red hair was watching him with bored curiosity, an honest-to-god knife being twirled between her fingers. She raised an eyebrow when he caught her eye, and Steve hurriedly looked away. On her left, there was a boy with his feet on the table and his knees bent, focusing on something in his lap. His long hair fell over his face. As Steve watched, he stretched out his legs and flicked his hair out of his face using a pencil, and _wow_ he was attractive. Pale skin accented the dark hair nicely, and high cheekbones and a sharp jawline framed his face. As if he knew Steve was watching him, he looked up, and Steve was pretty sure the breath was knocked out of him. His eyes were ice blue. 

"So, it seems we have a new addition to our family here at Brooklyn Secondary," the vice-principal addressed the class. Steve watched the boy slowly look Steve up and down, before gathering his hair into a messy ponytail, held by the pencil he was previously holding. With a start, Steve realised the boy was missing an arm. "I trust we'll make Steve here welcome. Tell us about yourself, Mr Rogers."

Steve shrugged, tearing his gaze away from the boy. "I just moved here with my dad. We're originally from Brooklyn, but we've been all over. Dad's in the army - pretty high up, too. We were all around the Middle East for a few years there, then we went to Mexico. We've been around the States for a year or so now, and I guess Dad just wanted to come home."

Steve shrugged again and smiled embarrassedly, praying he wasn't sounding as stupid as he felt. By the lust-filled gaze of a blonde-haired girl in the second row and a look of awe from the guy in front of her, Steve hadn't put his foot in his mouth yet.

"Wait, is your dad Joseph Rogers?" the guy in the front row asked, his eyes wide. "The war hero?"

Steve sighed internally. Of  
course there was going to be someone who knew who his dad was - he was in some newspaper or magazine every week. "Yeah, he is. You a fan?"

"He singlehandedly took down that entire battalion in Afghanistan! He got a Medal Of Honour! He turned down a Nobel Peace Prize!" the guy gushed. Steve was tempted to tell him about the worse sides of his father but realised that destroying a dude's hero before he even knew him was a pretty dick thing to do.

"Yeah, back in'08," Steve said instead, and smiled. As the teacher gestured for Steve to take a seat, Steve looked back over at the boy in the back row. He was having a whispered conversation with a dark-skinned boy on his left as the red-haired girl rolled her eyes. Steve looked away as he sat down, and a girl with dark skin and a shaved head leaned over to him from his right.

"You should watch out," she whispered to him. "Sharon Carter looks as if she wants to take you into a broom closet."

Steve looked over his shoulder to see the blonde girl from before flutter her eyelashes at him, and looked away quickly. "Is there any way for me to lock her in the broom closet and run away?"

The girl laughed. "Honey, believe me - you wouldn't be the first." She held out a hand. "I'm Okoye."

"Steve," Steve replied, grasping her hand. Her grip almost broke his fingers.

"So I heard," Okoye said, smirking at him. "Any reason you're not at some hot-shot military college, Rogers?"

"I refused to go, so my dad sent me to the cheapest public school as punishment, thinking it'd be full of crackheads," Steve replied honestly. Okoye snorted.

"Well, he's not wrong. Do me a favour, Rogers - don't become a dick. Or a stoner."

"I'll keep that in mind."

\-----

The day passed in a blur of pink sparkles and typical high school drama. As soon as the first class had ended, the boy with one arm and his companions had darted out the door, and when Steve managed to get into the hallway, they were nowhere to be seen. And then it was a haze of people, introducing themselves, showing him around the school, and generally acting like Steve was the only interesting thing around. Basically, it was like every first day Steve had ever had since he hit puberty.

At the end of the day, Steve managed to slip past Brock Rumlow and his endless football talk and made his way to the IT office, his laptop held under his arm. When Steve got close, he heard voices coming from inside. He opened the door to see five people lounging in the office. The scary red-haired girl was sitting on a filing cabinet, and a blonde kid with a bandage on his nose was chewing slowly on a Mars bar beside her. The same dark-skinned guy that was in Steve's English class was spinning slowly in a chair, staring at the ceiling. There were two people with their backs to Steve - one had a computer open and was tapping away furiously, and the other - 

Shit.

The other was the boy with one arm. 

To cut the slightly awkward silence in the room, Steve spoke up. "Dude, nice wallpaper. Original Queen? Absolute classic." 

The boy with said wallpaper spun around quickly, and Steve internally winced. He looked like he was moments away from a caffeine-induced heart attack. Cute one-armed guy stiffened slightly and turned around a lot slower than his caffeinated counterpart. He glared at Steve, but it made him look more like a disgruntled kitten than anything else. Steve fought down the urge to smile.

"I'm looking for Tony."

Everyone in the room pointed to the overly-caffeinated kid, who blinked a few times before saying, "That's me."

"Hey," Steve said, smiling at him. "I'm Steve."

The room was silent. Steve felt a lot more awkward but forged ahead. "So, the office sent me down here. I can't get onto the network. They told me you were the person to speak to? If it's a bad time I'll come back later. Only I have some sort of welcome pack in my inbox, apparently. You know, map to the toilets and secret S&M dungeons and all that."

The blonde kid snorted, and Tony seemed to snap out of whatever he was thinking of, and motioned for Steve to hand over the laptop. 

"You want a Mars bar?" the blonde kid asked, holding one up that he'd seemed to conjure out of thin air. Steve smiled and caught the candy when it was thrown to him.

"Thanks."

The redhead kicked a swivel chair in Steve's general direction. Steve took a bite of the Mars bar as he sat down.

"I don't think I've met you guys yet. It's been a blurry sort of day," Steve said, looking at the cute boy sitting opposite him who was refusing to make eye contact. It was the redhaired girl who spoke up, though.

"Tony, Sam," she pointed at the dark-skinned boy, "Clint," the blonde guy grinned, "and Bucky. I'm Natasha."

_Bucky._ It was a weird name, like something you'd call a dog, but somehow, it fitted him. When his name was said, Bucky scowled at Natasha, making Steve smile.

"So you're Bucky?" Steve asked, before mentally kicking himself. Yes, obviously, he was Bucky, he'd just been introduced. Bucky didn't seem to notice his inner struggle, because he just nodded silently. Before Steve could attempt to engage him in conversation again, Clint spoke up.

"Is that real?" Steve looked over at him questioningly, and Clint gestured to Steve's neck. Steve reached up and touched his collarbone, running his thumb along the outside of his tattoo.

"Yep."

"How'd you get it?" Clint asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"We travelled a lot. There are lots of places that don't ask for ID. And Dad's big on tatts," Steve explained, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. He stole a glance at Bucky, who was glaring resolutely at his lap, a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Did it hurt?" Natasha asked. When Steve turned to look at her, she was focusing on her nails.

"Like a bastard."

It was then that Tony snapped Steve's laptop shut and gave it back to him with a flourish and a wink. Steve smiled gratefully at him and stood up.

"I should get outta here. Gotta help Dad unpack - he's completely useless." Steve didn't mention that if he didn't get home in time, his dad would get angry. And that never ended well - Steve still had the scar on his hip from a broken beer bottle to prove it.

"We'll see you around," Clint said cheerfully around another mouthful of chocolate. Steve couldn't help but grin back at him.

"I'm counting on it," Steve replied, and Clint winked at him. "Thanks, Tony. See you guys around." 

Then his eyes landed on Bucky. The other boy was watching him silently, a stubborn set to his jaw. His hair fell in waves to his shoulders, and without a desk in the way, Steve could really appreciate what those skinny jeans were doing for his thighs. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to take Bucky up against the nearest wall, but that was all that was on Steve's mind at that moment. He wondered how it would feel to have those thighs wrapped around his waist.

"Bucky," Steve acknowledged, throwing Bucky one of those smiles that Peggy said made people want to fall to their knees and worship the ground he walked on (he always thought she was exaggerating). It seemed to work because Bucky's eyes widened, and colour flooded to his cheeks. Feeling slightly smug, Steve turned around and walked out the door, computer held under his arm.

\-----

Steve barely saw Bucky at all that week, save for a small encounter on Tuesday morning that left Steve feeling dizzy. Even looking like he hadn't slept in a week, Bucky was fucking gorgeous. So at Friday lunch, when Steve saw the same group from the IT office in the cafeteria (with the exception of Tony), he extracted himself from his conversation with Brock and made his way over. Clint waved when he saw him. Bucky, just as before, was sitting with his back to Steve, poking at the casserole that was supposedly the day's special. 

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you," Steve warned, trying not to smile when Bucky tensed up again. "I think whoever made it didn't have tastebuds."

"Hey Steve," Clint said cheerfully. He, apparently, did not have a problem with the casserole and was shovelling it down his throat at breakneck speed. Natasha gave him a mock salute with the knife she was holding, and Sam waved half-heartedly. Bucky turned around and gave Steve an obviously forced smile.

"Surprised you'd be caught dead talking to us," he quipped, and of course he was a smartass as well. This guy really was ticking all of Steve's boxes. Ignoring the glare Sam threw at Bucky, Steve sat down next to him.

"Well, I don't really care about that kind of stuff," Steve replied, and something like amusement flickered in Bucky's eyes. His hair was pulled back today, in some kind of loose braid. Steve wondered if Bucky managed to do it one-handed, or if someone else did it for him.

"So is there any reason you came over here, or did you just want a change of crowd?" Sam asked, snapping Steve out of his train of thought.

"Actually, yeah," Steve lied, ripping his eyes away from Bucky's. "I signed up for History, but I'm a bit behind. Actually, I'm very far behind. Since we're all in the same class, I wondered if I could study with you every now and then?"

Steve hadn't even meant to say anything like that, but he managed to keep his composure and not show his surprise. The rest of the group didn't bother hiding their incredulous expressions.

"You want to study with us?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Why are you taking History if you're no good at it?" Bucky added. Steve raised his eyebrows amusedly. It wasn't often that someone would talk to him as if they didn't care how he saw them. It was refreshing, to say the least.

"I like History, but I'm not exactly up to date," Steve said, shrugging. "It wasn't offered as a subject at my old schools."

"Sure, we can have a study group," Clint chirped, still shovelling casserole into his mouth. "How about Fridays after class? Sam and Bucky both live nearby."

"Not my place," Sam blurted out. "My mum... has book club on Fridays."

Steve raised an eyebrow at the obvious lie but didn't comment. Bucky looked over at Sam, and they seemed to have some kind of silent conversation.

"Then at Bucky's," Clint said. Bucky made some kind of groaning noise that Clint seemed to take as consent.

"Great," Steve said, trying to suppress his smile. "I can't do this Friday night, but I'll be free next week. I'll see you around."

He gave Bucky a mock-salute, and Bucky ducked his head, but Steve could see the small smile playing on his lips. 

\------

Steve hated the Army. Not even because it stood for everything he hated - war, dysfunction, death, et cetera - but because his experience with soldiers was abysmal.

But he couldn't say no to his dad, so there he was - in the middle of a town hall, surrounded by his dad's friends and their families, and praying that death would come. His only solace came in the form of Peggy, whose dad had flown from London to go to this stupid party, and Peggy had been dragged along. Steve spotted her hurrying back from the drinks table, not-so-subtly stomping on the toes of anyone who came close to her - and that must have hurt, considering how tall her heels were.

"One of these days, I will be able to shoot these idiots in their throats," she muttered as soon as she got within earshot, handing Steve a glass of whatever alcoholic substance she could find. 

"Don't wait," Steve said, taking a long drink. "Do it right now. If one more pot-bellied man in his fifties comes up to me and asks if I've signed up yet, I'll do it myself."

Peggy sighed and grabbed Steve's hand. "Come on - I need to get out of here."

"You do know everyone will think we ran off to make out, right?" Steve said, raising an eyebrow. Peggy rolled her eyes and began dragging him through the party.

"At least that will decrease the number of men twice my age groping my breasts at any chance they get."

Steve knew better than to go back in there and beat up anyone who even looked at Peggy the wrong way - not because he wouldn't win, but because she would glare at him and scold him for being a literal three-year-old. So he kept quiet, and let Peggy pull him out the front door and into the gardens out the front of the town hall.

"How's Howard?" Steve asked when they'd sat down on a bench, out of sight of the front doors.

"He blew up a house the other week," Peggy said absentmindedly. "Phillips almost had a heart attack."

"Remind me again why he's not in jail for destruction of both public and private property, as well as the manufacturing of weapons not authorized by the British government?"

"He has a lot of money," Peggy shrugged, leaning back on her arms. She looked over at Steve then, worry evident in her eyes. "But that doesn't matter. How are you doing?"

Unbidden, Bucky's face popped into Steve's mind, and he had to duck his head to avoid Peggy seeing his smile. "Not bad."

"Are you smiling?" Peggy asked, and Steve could hear a teasing note to her voice. "What's got you so cheerful?"

"Nothing!" Steve protested, looking up at her. That was a bad idea because Peggy immediately saw the blush that was creeping up Steve's neck.

"You met someone!" she crowed, and Steve groaned.

"No! Not really, I mean - I've only talked to him a few times, and I'm pretty sure he hates me."

"Are you going to give me details, or do I have to pull them out of you myself?"

Steve sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "His name is Bucky, okay? He's cute and constantly angry, and I saw him punch the quarterback in the face for groping his friend."

"And I'm guessing he insults you at any given opportunity?" Peggy asked.

"How'd you know that?"

"You have a type, Steve," she said, rolling her eyes. "You like your men - and women - with brown hair and the temperament of a honey badger."

"No, I don't!" Steve protested. Then paused. "Okay, maybe I do."

Peggy scoffed. "Do me a favour, Rogers. Actually try and pursue a relationship with him."

"Sure, that'd go well. 'Hey Bucky, I know that you hate me and are probably straight, but I've been fantasizing about your thighs since I first saw them and I wanna take you out and be hopelessly romantic with you, even though I don't know if you can feel joy."

"Okay, I did not need to know about the thighs," Peggy said, wrinkling her nose. 

"He wears skinny jeans and obviously works out!" Steve defended himself. "It would be a crime to _not_ notice them!"

"Wow, he's really ticking all of your boxes, isn't he?"

"That's exactly what I thought."

"And do you have his number?" Peggy asked, and Steve felt a blush rise to his face. 

"His friend gave it to me. I don't think he knows I have it."

Peggy laughed, and looped her arm across Steve's shoulders. "Come on, lover boy. You're going to give me every juicy detail on Thighs Of Betrayal -"

"Why betrayal?"

"-and in return, I will teach you how to text a boy without making a total fool of yourself."

\-----

Steve did end up texting Bucky, two days later. He couldn't bring himself to regret it.

\-----

The next Friday, Steve was cornered after history by Wanda. 

"We need to talk," was the first thing out of her mouth.

"This is going to be fun," Steve muttered, and Wanda rolled her eyes.

"No need to get testy. Look, Sharon's been talking to me, and she's going to try and make a move on you soon."

Steve groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Why? Can't she tell I'm just not interested?"

Wanda snorted. "It's Sharon. She can't take no for an answer. The last guy she dated she keyed his car after he dumped her for not letting him see his female cousin."

Steve winced. "So I'm guessing she'll do that to my bike or something?"

"Worse," Wanda said grimly, before she looked around and gestured for Steve to come closer. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Listen, I know you're not straight."

Steve's eyes widened, and Wanda hastened to correct her mistake. "I don't think anyone else has noticed, but I've seen the way you look at Barnes. And Sharon's started to suspect something. And I'm scared that if you reject her, she'll out you."

"She wouldn't," Steve murmured, shaking his head in horror. "She may be a bit intense, but there's no way she's a full-blown psycho."

"Honestly? I've seen her do worse," Wanda said, biting her lip. "But you need a legitimate reason to reject her."

Then an idea came into Steve's head. It was really stupid, and Peggy was probably going to kill him for it, but it was the only thing he could think of, and he was desperate. "What if I was already in a relationship?"

Wanda frowned. "But you're not."

"Now I am," Steve said, and mentally prayed Peggy wouldn't castrate him. "The girl I was seen with in the paper? Her name's Peggy. We dated when I lived in London. And if I just pretended we never broke up, I'd have a reason to not date Sharon."

"That's... actually pretty smart," Wanda admitted, a small smile on her face. "Sharon has no idea I talked to you about this, I want to keep it that way."

"Noted," Steve replied. "Listen, I need to get to study group, but thanks for telling me."

Wanda grinned. "What are friends for?"

\-----

Things Steve Rogers did not know he was attracted to until he met Bucky Barnes

#1: Bucky speaking Russian  
#2: Artists  
#3: Bucky talking about chopping off his own earlobe

Turned out the study group was educational after all.

\-----

Steve didn't know if he was an absolute genius or the dumbest son of a bitch to ever grace the planet with his presence. Peggy seemed to think the latter of him, but as usual, Steve didn't listen to her. Maybe he should start doing that, because she was a lot smarter than he was. 

But the reason for Steve's stupidity or genius (depending on how you look at it) was deciding to invite Bucky to the beach party. He invited Sam, Natasha and Clint too, but the main reason was Bucky. Now, Steve couldn't decide if the good outweighed the bad - he got to see Bucky in hopefully very little clothing, but he might act like a complete idiot when it happened.

So there Steve was, standing outside Bucky's apartment, trying to psyche himself up enough to ring the doorbell. 

It took him a pathetically long time, but Steve finally managed to reach out and knock on the door. It opened a few seconds later, and Steve was greeted with Natasha's retreating figure. He walked through the door, internal struggle momentarily forgotten. 

"Such a nice welcome," he said sarcastically, and Natasha blew him a kiss.

"Only for you, dear," she purred. Bucky's sister snorted. 

Steve felt his eyes go to Bucky, as they usually did whenever they were in a room together. He was wearing a grey shirt and black sweatpants and compared to the clothes he usually wore, the thin cotton was barely hiding anything. Steve could see the outline of Bucky's collarbone jut out of the neck of his shirt, and quickly looked away.

"You planning on wearing sweatpants to the beach?" Steve finally asked. Bucky tilted his head and smirked, and Steve had to silently pray that he didn't pop a boner in the middle of his friend's living room.

"If you were expecting Speedos, I'll have to say you should've seen this coming," Bucky drawled, and that put a picture in Steve's head that made it harder for him to keep the blood in his upper body. Thankfully, before Steve could say anything incriminating, Natasha spoke up.

"Keep it in your pants, boys." Natasha crowed, and Clint snickered beside her. Bucky's face went that beautiful red colour as he glared at them, and when Steve finally forced his eyes away, he noticed Sam watching with a raised eyebrow and a small smile on his lips.

"Should we get going?" Sam said, because he was an amazing person and wouldn't comment on Steve's obvious infatuation.

"Good idea," Steve said quickly. "Man, the last time I was on a beach was in London. It was grey and cold and covered in rocks. I'm excited."

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Bucky look over at him. He could've sworn Bucky was smiling. 

\----

Wanda had been right, Steve realised - Sharon was proving much harder to keep away than he'd thought, even though she thought Steve was already in a relationship. The fact that she didn't care about that made Steve even less interested in her as a potential romantic partner - not that he had much interest in the beginning. So when she finally, _finally,_ walked away, Steve breathed out an involuntary sigh of relief. Almost immediately, Steve looked over at Bucky to gauge his reaction, then immediately felt guilty about it. Bucky had his nose scrunched up as he watched Sharon leave, but when he looked back at Steve, there was nothing judgemental in his expression.

"How you doing there, Barnes?" Steve asked, trying to alleviate some of the tension that had descended over the group with Sharon's appearance. "Not too worried about getting disembowelled?"

"Yeah, I'm fantastic," Bucky said sarcastically, leaning back on his arm. "Absolutely loving this extremely hot weather, and definitely do not feel uncomfortable with the obvious lack of arm."

And because Steve was an idiot with no brain-to-mouth filter, he said, "Ever thought the lack of an arm is actually working for you?" 

But honestly, he couldn't bring himself to regret it when that blush spread across Bucky's face once again. Feeling slightly proud of himself, Steve pulled off his shirt and bunched it up under his head, lying down and using it as a pillow as he slid his sunglasses onto his face. 

Movement next to him caught Steve's attention, and he turned his head just in time to see Bucky throwing his shirt into the bag that Clint had brought with them. And Jesus, if Bucky had a good body when it was covered by fabric, that was nothing compared to the real thing. Pale skin was stretched over wiry muscles that Steve wanted to trace with his fingers and tongue so badly it almost hurt. The stump of his left arm was surrounded by scars that ran up his collarbone and down his ribcage, but Steve barely noticed it. He wondered how Bucky's body would feel beneath his, or pressed up against his own. 

Steve was brought out of his fantasies by a scream, and he looked over to see Wanda and Pietro laugh at something that happened further down the beach, then get up and run towards the water. As most of the people around him started racing into the water, Steve felt a brief flash of panic before he turned to look at Bucky, who seemed to not have noticed Steve's staring, or his momentary panic. 

"Let's get ice cream," Steve blurted. Bucky looked over at him with a raised eyebrow but said nothing as he let Steve pull him to his feet and walk away from the rest of the group as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. Steve didn't let go of Bucky's hand, and Bucky didn't seem to mind. 

When they were a little while away from the group, Bucky spoke. "Not a fan of the water?" His tone was teasing, but his eyes were curious. Steve felt himself blush as he ducked his head. 

"Actually, I never really learned how to swim," he admitted, his face heating up more. When Steve looked over, Bucky was grinning at him. "Yes, I know. Hilarious."

"No, it's not that," Bucky protested, but it sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "It's just... I didn't think you wouldn't be able to swim. You seem into that kind of stuff."

Steve contemplated what exactly Bucky meant by that, then decided that it wasn't worth agonising over. "I guess I just never learned."

Bucky nodded, but he was gnawing on his bottom lip and looking out to the distance. Steve immediately was on edge - Bucky never made that face unless he was planning something. And Bucky's plans rarely went well for Steve.

Just as Steve suspected, Bucky started pulling him towards the water, calling, "Come on," over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked warily as they reached the shore. Bucky let go of his hand and turned around, the water lapping around his ankles. He put his hand on his hip and grinned, and Steve was in far too deep because he could not resist that look. 

"Teaching you how to swim."

"I dunno, Buck," Steve said doubtfully, and Bucky's grin widened. He started walking slowly backwards, and the fabric of his pants clung around his legs as he went deeper. Steve resolutely did not look.

"I promise to pull you to safety if you almost drown."

At that, Steve had to laugh, and Bucky, obviously satisfied, turned around and waded deeper into the water. Steve watched him, torn between his common sense and the rush of adrenalin that always came with being around Bucky and having those sharp, grey-blue eyes pierce his skin. 

"This is a terrible idea," Steve muttered to himself. "An absolutely insane course of action. If I have any sense of self-preservation, I would just turn back now, and pretend this never happened."

Of course, Steve said this while wading after Bucky, the water cold against his bare skin. Bucky turned around when the water was up to his waist, and he looked so incredible in the light that Steve had to restrain himself from wrapping Bucky up in his arms and kissing him senseless. Instead of reaching out, Steve crossed his arms over his chest when he came into arm's reach. 

"I wouldn't have thought you were a beach person," Steve said, and Bucky grinned.

"Anyone with common sense is a beach person, Stevie."

"I guess I don't have any common sense, then."

Bucky laughed at that, and held out his hand. "I already knew that. Now c'mon, we gotta get into deeper water."

After a second of hesitation, Steve slid his hand into Bucky's, and relished in the perfect feeling of Bucky's palm against his own, their fingers intertwined. He almost felt dizzy from that small point of contact, and Steve realised that he had fallen way too far, and way too fast. The water was up to Bucky's shoulders, and when he turned back around, Steve noticed the ends of his hair were floating on top of the water. When he let go of Steve's hand, Steve couldn't even feel disappointed when Bucky was looking at him like that.

"Just lift your feet off the floor, and tread water."

Bucky made a motion with his arm, and Steve awkwardly tried to copy it. After he got the hang of it, Steve realised it was relatively easy, and in no time he'd ducked under the water to yank Bucky's legs up from underneath him. Even though he was under the water, Steve still heard Bucky's shriek as he was pulled under, and Steve poked the top half of his face out of the water to watch as Bucky came back up, spluttering and laughing. His hair was plastered to his face, and his skin had gone paler than normal from the cooler temperature of the water, but he was the most beautiful thing that Steve had ever seen. 

"If I'd known you were going to do that, I would never have let you come into the water with me in the first place," Bucky pouted, and Steve almost melted because he looked _so cute._

Steve was so distracted by this that he didn't see Bucky coming until he was tackled backwards into the water, and his predicament was abandoned for a few minutes as the two of them wrestled like children, complete with the breathless giggles, tickling, and splashing. When they were both out of breath they stopped and didn't bother changing their positions as they laughed and caught their breath. Bucky's legs were wrapped tight around Steve's waist, and Steve could barely do anything but hold onto the beautiful man in front of him for dear life and pray that he wouldn't pop a boner. Bucky's arm was draped loosely over Steve's shoulder, and Steve couldn't help himself when he leaned their foreheads together and slid his fingers into Bucky's long hair. Bucky's eyes were shining, his mouth curled into a smile as he caught his breath, and his hand moved to cup the back of Steve's neck.

Before Steve could do something stupid, like kiss him or slide his hands down to grab Bucky's thighs - which were like steel wrapped around his waist, dear _god_ it was a miracle Steve's dick wasn't paying attention - he pulled away, his hands dropping from Bucky's body. Bucky's legs untightened and eventually let him go, and Steve wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

"Come on," Steve said, trying maybe a bit too hard to act casual. "I remember offering ice cream."

And when Bucky sat next to him on the bench as they shared a chocolate ice cream, his thigh pressed against Steve's, Steve couldn't resist looping an arm around Bucky's shoulders. And when Bucky leaned into him and looked up at him with a smile curling his lips up, Steve couldn't regret a thing.

\-----

Bucky's face was lit up by the pale pink of the evening sky, his head tilted downward. Shadows were cast over his cheekbones and the bow of his lips, his eyelashes looking even longer than normal in the light. His gaze was focussed on Steve's feet, where he was brushing sand off. Steve knew that he was probably staring like a total creep, but he was too happy to really care. 

"Anyone wanna come back to mine?" Steve asked absentmindedly.

"Dude, I wish. I have a shift in like, half an hour. Believe me, I would much rather lie on the floor of your house and eat pizza," Natasha sighed, and Clint groaned.

"Damnit. I promised your manager I'd be there," he said miserably, and Natasha raised her eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because last week you threatened a guy with a knife," Clint reminded her. "And apparently you're in a less stabby mood if I'm around."

"I have a legal essay," Sam said, picking at his nails. "I gotta finish it this weekend, or else I won't have time."

Steve nudged Bucky's thigh with his foot, and he felt the muscles under the skin ripple at the contact. "What about you, Barnes? Big plans?"

Bucky shrugged casually, eyes half-lidded as he smirked at Steve. "Yeah, I guess I'm free."

There was no way he knew what that look was doing to Steve, and what parts of his anatomy were taking an interest, but even if he did, Steve was sure that Bucky would keep doing it, just because he was an asshole. "Great."

Bucky grinned, and Steve had to remind himself how to breathe. 

They were the first off the train, waving goodbye to their friends before setting off, the sky slowly darkening as they walked. A comfortable silence settled over them, and now and then Steve felt Bucky's arm brush up against his own.

When they finally got to Steve's apartment complex and he opened the door, he suppressed a curse. His father had obviously had some friends over because there were empty beer bottles and pizza boxes everywhere, and a stack of porn on the coffee table.

"Sorry about the mess," Steve said apologetically, turning to look over his shoulder at Bucky. "Dad's not really into cleaning."

Bucky raised an eyebrow as he looked around the room. "I can see that."

Suddenly desperate to get out of the room, Steve started picking up bottles as he made his way towards the hallway. "Dad's out, but he left pizza money. He probably won't be back until tomorrow. He must've had some friends over earlier though."

Bucky frowned, tilting his head as he looked at Steve. His gaze was piercing - it was as if he was seeing right through Steve's casual façade and right into his soul. Somehow, Steve knew he wasn't being judged.

"Come on. Let's go to my room - I promise there are fewer beer bottles."

When he closed the door behind Bucky, Steve felt an overwhelming sense of relief to be out of the main room. He flopped down on the bed and tried to regulate his breathing, praying not to have a panic attack with Bucky in the room. Steve cracked an eye open to watch Bucky, who was looking around the room in interest. His eyes caught on the pictures on Steve's bedside table.

"Is that your mum?" Bucky asked, gesturing towards one of the photos. Steve looked over and smiled fondly - he remembered that day. He'd been bitten by so many mosquitos he couldn't sit comfortably for a week.

"Yeah. That was just after ma and dad got divorced. We were in Australia for a holiday. Down in Victoria. Gippsland lakes."

Bucky nodded and sat down on the bed next to Steve. His thigh was pressed up against Steve's, and their arms were plastered together. Bucky leaned forward slightly, studying another picture on the chest of drawers, and his hair brushed against his face. Steve had to clasp his hands in his lap to prevent himself from reaching out and tucking the loose strands behind Bucky's ear. 

"How long have you guys been going out?" Bucky asked suddenly. Steve frowned in confusion before he followed Bucky's gaze to a picture of him and Peggy at a fundraising event that had been taken before he'd moved to Brooklyn. Steve felt Bucky's eyes on him and winced. 

"Actually, Bucky, I haven't been completely honest with you," Steve said hesitantly, turning his head to look at Bucky, whose eyebrows had furrowed in confusion. "And I think it'll make me sound like a total idiot."

Bucky tilted his head, and it was such a sweet and innocent gesture that it made absolutely no sense that it made Steve want to jump Bucky's bones right there. 

"Peggy and I broke up. Before I moved here. We were friends, and then we kinda dated for a bit, but it didn't work out. It's just that..." Steve trailed off. It was almost impossible to find the right wording for what was going through his mind when he told people about Peggy. "I'm not really the type of person to date a lot. And being the new guy attracts a lot of attention. When Sharon and those girls were hanging around, Peggy just kinda... slipped out. And then I ran with it because it gave me an excuse to not date anyone."

"So Peggy's like your straight beard?" Bucky asked curiously, and it was such a ridiculous question that Steve laughed.

"Yeah, I guess, but I'm not straight."

Wow. He had not meant to say that. It was obvious that Bucky was just as surprised as he was.

"Really?" Bucky asked incredulously, and despite his better judgement, and the knowledge that Bucky would never be prejudiced against someone for something as stupid as their sexuality, Steve felt himself start getting defensive.

"Yeah, I'm bi. Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not!" Bucky said quickly, his cheeks turning red. "No, I'm gay, so... can't really be homophobic, can I?"

Well _that_ changed things. 

"Right. Sorry, I just usually don't get a positive reaction when I tell people that," Steve babbled, feeling his face heat up. Bucky wasn't doing that much better - his face was bright red, and it was far too endearing to be possible.

"So, if it wasn't Peggy, then who kept texting you today? You didn't look that pumped with whoever it was," Bucky suddenly said. Steve felt something warm curl in his chest as he looked over at Bucky with surprise. 

"You noticed?" he asked in surprise, and Bucky's face, which had been going back to a natural colour, went pink again. "That would be my dad. He can be... difficult to deal with."

Bucky's expression immediately changed, his eyes flashing with anger. Obviously not at Steve, but his father. Steve knew that his dad wasn't exactly the best role model for a fatherly figure, but he never thought he was that bad. And maybe that was just the leftover hero-worship every kid had for their father, but, watching Bucky's face, Steve realised just how bad the problem was getting. The drunkenness that Steve returned to almost every night, the fact that his father was never in the house, the parties, the girls that couldn't have been much older than Steve that his dad kept bringing home by the dozens. And the anger - that was the worst part. Steve wasn't as small as he used to be - he was almost as big as his dad - but that didn't stop the man from threats of violence and disownment.

Suddenly desperate to change the topic, Steve stood up abruptly. He plastered a smile on his face and turned back to Bucky, holding out his hand. With barely any hesitation, Bucky took it and allowed Steve to pull him to his feet. It made butterflies explode in Steve's chest. "Come on. I want to show you something."

"I hope it isn't your collection of human skulls," Bucky replied, his eyes dancing. Steve wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them and press his lips to Bucky's, but he just laughed and turned away, busying himself with grabbing two Cokes from the minifridge in the corner of his room.

"No, nothing that exciting." Steve opened the window that led to the small balcony and slipped out. A few seconds later, Bucky followed, eyes on the horizon as he watched the sunset. Steve sat down on one of the beanbags, watching Bucky's form cast shadows on the balcony in the light. And when he sat down, his leg brushing Steve's, neither of them moved.

"You approve?" Steve asked, and Bucky turned to look at him.

"Of your place?" he asked, and Steve nodded. "It's nice. Could do with a cleanup."

Steve huffed out a laugh. "I know. But it's the nicest place we've had in a while. In Afghanistan, we lived in the barracks. When I was with my ma in Africa we lived in a small hut with barely enough room for two people, and we were staying with a family of five. And in London, all I could smell was smog and cigarettes."

"What a glamorous life," Bucky drawled, raising an eyebrow.

"I know, right? One party after another."

Bucky leaned back, his head hitting the wall behind him. Steve watched the curve of his lips, and the way his tongue danced across his bottom lip before he spoke again. "What's it like? Living with your dad."

Steve sighed, and leaned his head back too. Needing something to hold on to, he took Bucky's hand in his own and started tracing circles on the back of it. It was only then when he really noticed Bucky's hand - it was long and slim, smaller than his own, with scuffed knuckles and a bump on the middle finger just below the nail, from years of holding a pencil. The nails were bitten and uneven, and the pads of his fingers were almost always covered in lead or ink or charcoal or paint. 

"Let's just say it's like living with an active volcano," Steve finally said, not looking up from his inspection of Bucky's hand. Bucky tensed up slightly, making Steve glance up at him. Bucky's face was turned down in a grimace, and he was resolutely not looking Steve in the eye. Whatever had made him look like that obviously had something to do with his own dad. "What about you?" Steve asked softly. "I haven't heard anything about your dad."

"There isn't really much to tell," Bucky said, his voice casually indifferent. If not for the fear in his eyes, Steve wouldn't have thought anything was wrong. "He was in the army. When he got back, he wasn't the same. He drank a lot, started hitting my ma. He started getting violent towards Becca and me, too. Ma only kicked him out when..."

Bucky trailed off and unconsciously rolled his left shoulder. He was biting his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. 

"You don't have to tell me," Steve said gently, but Bucky shook his head, pressing his eyes shut. His hand clutched at Steve's, and Steve gave a reassuring squeeze back. 

"It was two years ago. Ma was working a late shift at the hospital. I needed a lift home from a friend's place. Dad was drunk. He..." Bucky broke off with a choked sob. His eyes were still tightly shut, and when he spoke again, his voice was shaky. "He didn't see the truck until it was too late."

Steve shifted closer, softly pulling Bucky towards him by the hand. Bucky leaned his head in the crook of Steve's neck, his hair softly brushing Steve's jaw and tickling his collarbone.

"Dad was uninjured, save for a few burns. I... I was hit by a chunk of metal. It sawed my arm half off. The doctors couldn't save it - they had to take the whole thing off."

Without even thinking about it, Steve wrapped his free arm around Bucky's waist and pulled him closer, resting his cheek on the top of Bucky's head. Bucky let out a shuddering breath and nuzzled into Steve like a scared kitten. Steve couldn't help himself when he softly kissed the top of Bucky's head, the fluffy hair tickling his nose. They stayed like that until the sun went completely down.

\------

For the first time in his life, Steve was dreading the holidays.

Not because he particularly enjoyed school, but because his father had insisted that they were going to London for the entire time. And while Steve was over the moon to be seeing Peggy again, she was the only thing he liked about the place. And he'd have to leave Bucky. Bucky, who had a little dimple on his chin when he smiled that made Steve want to kiss it off. Bucky, who was one of the bravest people he'd ever met, with his one arm and broken family. Steve knew that he was a little bit too into Bucky - it had strayed very far away from just a crush very long ago. But, Steve was okay with that. He felt honoured that he got to love Bucky Barnes.

So maybe Steve was a bit too excited when Bucky's caller ID flashed on his screen just before he was about to board the plane to London.

"Jesus, the airport is freezing! Someone should tell these idiots that they should tell us if the plane is delayed before we step out into the cold," Steve said as a greeting, because yeah, he was basically a Popsicle.

Bucky was silent for a few seconds over the line, the only sound being his soft breaths. "I just wanted to say bye," he finally said, and the quiver in his voice was barely noticeable, but there. Bucky had always been good at hiding how he was feeling.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked immediately, forgetting about the plane and the cold weather as he turned against the wind, ducking his head slightly to hear Bucky's voice a bit better.

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Bucky asked, and it was such a ridiculous question Steve almost laughed. _Because I know you. Because you're my friend. Because I'm falling in love with you._

"Jamie."

Bucky's breath stuttered over the line. "My dad died this morning."

Steve's heart felt like it dropped into his stomach. He knew that Bucky's dad wasn't exactly the best father figure around - alright, that might have been a bit of an understatement. But even if someone hated their father with all their guts, they're still family. And when they die, it still hurts. And Bucky was completely alone.

"Damnit," Steve muttered, mostly to himself. "This is the worst possible timing... Please tell me you're doing okay. Well, you can't really be doing okay, but in perspective-"

"Steve," Bucky interrupted. "It's alright."

"Buck, I'm so sorry. I... I wish I could be there - god, Sam and Nat and Clint are gone, too, _shit_..." A boarding announcement sounded in the background, and Steve swore again. "Damnit, I need to get on a _plane_..." Steve knew he was babbling by now, and he kept running his hand through his hair until it stood up like he'd been electrocuted.

"It's alright, Steve," Bucky cut in again, his voice soft and shaking almost imperceptibly. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Steve argued. "I am going to call you as soon as my plane lands, you hear me? And you'd better pick up, otherwise, I'm coming straight back."

Bucky's breath stuttered over the line, his voice cracking when he spoke again. "Okay."

"And watch _Footloose._ It's my go-to happy movie. You'll love it," Steve added, feeling himself getting almost desperate. Just because he couldn't be right beside Bucky didn't mean he wasn't going to do everything in his power to make his friend feel better.

Bucky let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and it tore Steve's heart. "Okay. Thanks, Steve."

"If I could, I'd do everything for you, Buck," Steve said, his voice taking on a desperate tone. He needed Bucky to know, needed him to realise that he wasn't alone, that he had people he could rely on, that he was loved. If Bucky was standing right in front of him, Steve wouldn't even hesitate to close the distance between them and kiss some sense into Bucky. How did Bucky not see how incredible he really was?

At that moment, the airport crew started shepherding them towards the plane, and all Steve could think was _of course they're ready exactly when I need a few more minutes._ "Damnit, I really need to go. Seven hours, Buck."

And when Steve hung up, he felt like a little piece of his heart disappeared with the caller ID.

\-----

It wasn't until two hours after he landed that Steve had a chance to call Bucky. First there was a complication with the luggage at the airport, then the taxi they were in got stuck in traffic for 45 minutes (Steve's dad properly traumatized the poor driver for taking the route while Steve hid behind his hands and pretended he wasn't there), then Steve was caught in a _very_ uncomfortable conversation with Peggy's conservative uncle, and it was only when the man was distracted by the prospect of going to a bar to harass women that Steve managed to slip away. 

Peggy wasn't there when they first arrived, but Steve went to her room anyway, closing the door with a little too much force and releasing the breath he didn't know he was holding. He wasn't even sure he would be able to survive the two weeks in England - and not only because it was his least favourite city in the whole of the northern hemisphere. 

Steve collapsed down at Peggy's desk, fishing his laptop out of his backpack and setting it down in front of him. It took barely ten seconds for the computer to start up and for Steve to click on Bucky's contact in Skype, but it felt like forever. 

It only rang for a couple of seconds before connecting, and Bucky's face popped up on his screen. Steve felt his heart break - Bucky looked terrible. His hair was tangled and hanging limply in his face, there were large bags under his bloodshot eyes, and his skin was pale. He'd obviously been crying, and Steve was pretty sure that was his shirt that Bucky was wearing. Despite all of that, Steve couldn't help the jump in his chest, the way his throat closed up, the itch in his fingers to run his hands through that hair and press kiss after kiss to that face.

"Don't you dare say you're fine, I can see that you're not," Steve said immediately. Bucky blinked, obviously caught off guard.

"Am I really that easy to read?" he finally replied, his voice scratchy and rough. If they were under any other circumstances, Steve would have felt such a strong jolt of arousal that he'd probably come in his pants. As it was, it took all of his self-control to keep his breathing level, and Steve pushed down the wave of shame and guilt that always came with his fantasies of Bucky, who was his friend above everything else. And with Bucky so obviously miserable, the guilt was even more obvious.

"Not to most people," Steve said, and Bucky gave a weak smile that pretty much flipped Steve's world upside down. "Also, you look like death."

The fact that Bucky didn't even laugh at that made Steve even more worried. "I feel like death, too."

Maybe it was the exhaustion that always came with flights, or maybe it was the emotional toll that always took place after speaking with Peggy's family or spending time with his father, but Steve couldn't even stop himself from blurting out exactly what he was thinking. "I really wish I could be there with you."

And Bucky's eyes got suspiciously blurry in the poor quality of the video camera. "I wish you could be here, too," he whispered, like it was a secret that he was ashamed of having, like he was spilling his darkest fears over the shitty Skype call.

"I promise you, as soon as I get back I'm gonna camp out on the floor of your room for like, a month," Steve said, and against all odds, Bucky laughed. 

"Why would you sleep on the floor? There's plenty of room in the bed," Bucky said, and Steve had to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at those words.

"I suppose there is," Steve said, feeling his face split into a goofy smile. "I'm warning you, I snore."

"I doubt you're as bad as Clint," Bucky said, scrunching up his face. "I don't know how Nat can stand it."

"Love makes people do strange things," Steve said, and though his voice was meant to be teasing, it definitely didn't sound that way. Bucky paused, and tilted his head as he looked at Steve. It was like getting put in an examination chamber of some kind, but Steve found that he didn't mind.

The door opening behind him made him jump, and turn away from the screen as if he'd been burned. Peggy Carter breezed through, looking absolutely stunning as always, her heels clicking against the wood floor as she made her way across the room towards Steve.

"Steven, for Christ's sake, you don't even come and say hello to me," Peggy said dramatically, and Steve had to bite back a laugh. "After all I've done for you."

"The only thing you ever really did for me that came in handy was teaching me how to kiss," Steve retorted, allowing her to lean down and smack an exaggerated kiss to his cheek. It was then that Peggy diverted her attention to the laptop, and Steve internally groaned.

"Are you Bucky?" Peggy asked, her eyes sly as she smiled. Steve knew that he was going to be embarrassed more than he'd probably ever been in his life from that smile.

"Uh, yeah. Hi," Bucky mumbled, and he just looked so cute when he was embarrassed that Steve had to remember not to swoon. 

"I've been waiting so long to put a face to the name!" Peggy gushed. "Steve goes on about you all the time, you know-"

"Okay, Carter," Steve almost yelped, grabbing Peggy's arm. "You gotta calm down there." His face was burning, and Peggy rolled her eyes at him. 

"Well, I actually did come up here for a reason," she said. The unspoken _a reason that wasn't to embarrass you_ was almost palpable. "Pizza's here - and you'd better come down quick because Dave's getting handsy again and the only way I can make him stop without physically hurting him is to have you there."

While Steve usually would drop absolutely everything to make sure Peggy didn't get groped by his pervert cousin, he found himself almost reluctant to go.

"Can't you just break his arm and be done with it?" Steve sighed, and Peggy pursed her lips. 

"Believe me, if I could, I would," she said, and Steve sighed again. She was right, of course - David, and every other man that was going to be downstairs for the party, could literally take her into a spare room and gang-rape her, and she wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. But if she laid a single hand on one of them, even if she was just protecting herself, they would make sure she was stripped of all her privilege, family money, and dignity. "Now come on." Peggy waved at the laptop. "Nice meeting you, Bucky."

"You too," Bucky mumbled, still looking completely out of his depth. Peggy winked at him and shot a look at Steve that made him blush to the roots of his hair, before walking back out of the room. 

"So, that was Peggy," Steve said, if only to fill some of the silence that had made its way into the room with Peggy's absence.

"She seems great," Bucky said with a soft smile, and Steve would have felt jealous if he didn't know that Bucky was strictly into guys. Even then, he still felt a little twist in his gut.

"She is. Okay, I have to go downstairs to save Peggy from my pervert cousin," Steve said, and Bucky's face fell. Suddenly desperate to get that look off Bucky's face, Steve blurted out the first thing he thought of. "But I am setting you two tasks."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Oh yeah - he was definitely falling in love with this boy. "Task one: have a shower." Steve tried not to think about being in the shower with Bucky, and failed miserably.

"I think I can manage that," Bucky drawled, rolling his eyes. Steve couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at Bucky being his normal, sarcastic self. 

"I'm sure you can," Steve teased, and Bucky raised an eyebrow. It was such a teasing and challenging gesture that Steve felt that familiar jolt of arousal deep in his gut, and pushed it down again as he had a sudden idea. "Task two: I am sending you an address right now. Be there at ten tomorrow."

"It's not gonna be some sleazy place where someone will sell me into sex slavery?" Bucky deadpanned, and Steve laughed.

"No, but I bet the sex slavery industry would love to get their hands on you - you're basically every sane person's dream," Steve retorted, and he was able to ignore the serious note in his tone from the look on Bucky's face - wide eyes, mouth slightly open in surprise, face bright red. It was adorable.

"I probably won't be able to talk much the next few days - Peggy's somehow convinced me to get manicures with her and go shopping. I'll try to text you as much as I can. But in the meantime - you'd better get those missions done."

"Aye aye, Captain," Bucky said dryly, and it may have been a joke, but that didn't stop Steve's traitorous mind from conjuring up _several_ fantasies that he quickly extinguished. "Is there any chance you're gonna tell me what exactly I'm gonna be doing?"

"Nope," Steve replied, grinning. "That's part of the fun. I promise I won't let you get sold into sex slavery."

Bucky ducked his head and bit his lip, but that didn't stop Steve from seeing the smile on his face. "Okay, Stevie."

Steve never would have thought he'd enjoy anyone calling him that, but Bucky seemed to be the exception to a lot of things. "I'll talk to you later," he promised, despite wanting nothing more than to keep talking to Bucky, to keep him company, to make sure he wasn't alone. "Take care of yourself, Buck."

It may have just been the blurry computer screen, but Steve could have sworn he saw something else in Bucky's eyes, something Steve knew from his own face after talking to the other boy. Something like love. "Yeah. You too, moya _lyubov'_."

Steve couldn't even think about the tilting accent that always crept into Bucky's voice when he switched between English and Russian, because Bucky looked like he was going to start crying, and all Steve wanted to do was get on a flight to New York and never leave his friend again. But before he could say anything else, Bucky had hung up. 

When Steve got downstairs, Peggy shot him a worried look. "Are you alright? You don't look very well."

"It's fine," Steve muttered. Peggy didn't ask again.

\------

The next morning, Steve called Dum Dum.

"Boy, it's almost one in the morning. This'd better be important," Dum Dum growled as soon as he picked up the phone.

"I need a favour."

"Don't you always. What's up?"

Steve bit his lip. "I have a friend. He's in a pretty bad spot at the moment, and I need some way to get him out of the house once in a while. And I was hoping..." Steve trailed off, and Dum Dum muttered curses under his breath.

"You're lucky I like you, boy," he muttered. "Fine, I'll do it. What instrument?"

"Something you can play with one hand?"

There was silence over the line. "He an amputee or somethin'?" 

"Yeah."

"Fine. What time?"

"Today? At ten?"

"You're gonna be the death of me, Stevie Rogers," Dum Dum groaned. "But you'd better come around some time for my troubles. Bring your boyfriend, if you want."

"Bucky isn't my boyfriend," Steve started to argue, but Dum Dum had already hung up.

\------

The next day, Steve's dad set them up in a hotel. Said something about letting the Carters keep their space, but Steve was pretty sure it was because Peggy's dad had outdrunk him in a contest and he held a grudge. The good thing was that Steve didn't have to camp out on the floor of Peggy's room, and there were no gross military dudes around - except for his dad, but Steve was used to him. And they got separate rooms, so that was a bonus.

It was around seven in the evening when Steve called Bucky. Steve was stretched out on his bed after his shower, wearing only his sweatpants and reading an article online about the musical composition course at the college down the road from his house, and maybe he should have put on a shirt or something before the Skype call connected, but he didn't really care.

Bucky was sitting on his bed, in the same position as he had been the last time they'd spoken, but he looked significantly better. He was wearing clean clothes, for one - a black tank top that showed off his unfairly attractive and well-toned arm, and track pants - and had his hair tied back in a half-ponytail, held up by a grey lead pencil. He'd obviously just showered, and his cheeks and neck were slightly flushed. Steve could hear the rain outside his window, loud and unforgiving, a constant white noise that was strangely comforting. There was a sketchbook sitting beside him, and a smudge of charcoal on his cheek.

"How'd it go?" Steve asked, and Bucky rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Really good, actually," Bucky said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Steve wondered if he'd blow-dried it - there was no way it could look so good. "Dum Dum taught me some basic chords, and told me to make you visit."

Steve felt his face burst into a goofy grin. "Buck, that's amazing! I'm so glad you liked it - and you can play so many songs with just a couple of chords. Hang on, I'll send you some links." He reached towards the bedside table and started sending some of his favourite links to Bucky, who rolled his eyes again.

"You think I'll be capable of playing actual songs?" Bucky asked dryly, picking up his phone and glancing at the screen.

"Sweetheart, by the time I get back, you'll be rivalling Elton John," Steve said absentmindedly, keeping his eyes on his phone. 

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" Bucky asked. "Dum Dum said you're some kind of musical genius."

Steve internally sighed, feeling his cheeks heat up. Of course Dum Dum couldn't keep his trap shut. "Yeah, he would say that. I think he just says it to talk up his teaching skills."

Bucky was quiet for a few seconds, and Steve looked up at the screen to see Bucky examining him closely, his eyebrows furrowed. "Anyway, Dum Dum's place is awesome. Even though it smells awful and has too many people living there," Bucky finally said.

Steve almost groaned in relief at the change of subject. "Yeah, I love it too. It is pretty gross if you think about it, but if you don't then it's basically heaven." Steve paused, the next words at the tip of his tongue. It wasn't that he didn't want to ask Bucky out on a date, it was that he wasn't sure Bucky would be comfortable with that. "I'll take you to see the band some time. They might look like POWs from World War II, but the Howling Commandoes have pretty great music. I think you'd like them."

Bucky's face lit up, and once again Steve had to remind himself that it wouldn't be a date. Just two friends, hanging out. Alone. At a concert. Listening to a band that specialised in overly sexual songs. Steve wondered how it would feel to dance with Bucky, to pull his back flush to Steve's chest, to mouth at his neck while they rolled their hips in time to the music. He wondered if Bucky's legs and ass were as firm as they looked, how they would feel pressed against his pelvis and rolling slowly, languidly, and how Steve's dick would feel pressed against Bucky's ass.

"Sounds good," Bucky said, effectively drawing Steve out of his fantasy. Steve was suddenly glad that he was laying on his stomach, so that Bucky couldn't see his very obvious erection.

Steve leaned towards the laptop, putting a sly grin on his face. "Hey, Buck?"

Bucky leaned forward too, and his hair fell out of its makeshift bun and into his face, and Steve had to actively push the thoughts of gripping that hair and _pulling_ out of his mind. "Yeah?"

His voice was rough and almost seductive in nature, and Steve had to wonder whether Bucky was doing this on purpose, just to rile him up. "You ready for your next task?"

\-----

That night, Steve dreamed about the dancing.

He probably should have seen it coming, especially since as soon as the Skype call had disconnected he'd had a hand around his dick, imagining just what Bucky's skin would taste like under his tongue. 

He was at a club of some kind, that reminded him of the one he and Peggy always snuck into in London. But it was obviously not the club in London, because Bucky was standing in front of him, wearing skinny jeans and a white button-up that was half undone, his hair fluffy and cascading down to his shoulders, and kohl lining his eyes in a way that made the blue-grey colour stand out even more than usual. 

Steve reached out, his hands going around Bucky's waist. The song that was playing had a strong beat, a woman's vocals soaring above the bass, and Bucky looped his arm around Steve's shoulders, their hips brushing with every step. Steve leaned down to rest his face in the curve of Bucky's neck, his lips barely brushing the skin. Bucky tilted his head back with a soft groan, then turned around in Steve's arms to press his back against Steve's chest. His hand reached up to cup the back of Steve's head as he started to slowly grind in time with the song, his ass flush against Steve's groin. Bucky bared his neck, flicking his hair out of the way, and Steve closed his mouth around the pulse point, sucking lightly as his hands ran up and down Bucky's sides. Bucky let out another moan, and his hips stuttered from their persistent rhythm. When Bucky slipped out of Steve's grasp and turned back around, his eyes were so dark the irises were basically gone.

Without a word, he grabbed Steve's hand and pulled him across the dance floor, through the bodies that smelled like sweat and sex and alcohol all mixed into a dangerous cocktail, into a dimly lit hallway. As soon as they were out of sight from the rest of the club, Steve felt himself get slammed into the wall, then Bucky's lips were on his. They were warm, and chapped, and slick with saliva, and Steve found himself with one hand on Bucky's hip and the other tangled in his hair, and he was licking his way into Bucky's mouth, swallowing down the whimpers and groans that kept coming out of Bucky's mouth. Bucky's hand was clutching the back of Steve's shirt, and his hips were rolling again, grinding into Steve's. 

Steve let go of Bucky's hair and waist, and Bucky whined in protest until Steve was sliding his hands under Bucky's thighs and lifting, pushing off the wall to switch their positions. Bucky let out a gasp, then groaned into Steve's mouth as his legs wrapped around Steve's waist, his cock thick and heavy where it was pressed against Steve's stomach. Their kiss had become more tongue and teeth than actual kissing, and Bucky's hair was all over the place and there was definitely some in both their mouths, but it didn't matter because Steve's body was humming with adrenaline and arousal, and he could have probably fucked Bucky up against the wall if he really wanted to, and _god_ did he want to. 

Bucky pulled away, and Steve took a few seconds to take in his face. The kohl was smudged across Bucky's face, sweat was gleaming on his cheekbones, and his hair was sticking to his face. His lips were bright red and swollen, and there was a bite mark on his lower lip where Steve remembered sinking his teeth into. They were both panting hard, and Steve could feel his erection throbbing in his jeans - Bucky wasn't much better. 

Bucky then gave a sly grin and leaned forward to nuzzle at Steve's neck. Steve's hand flew to Bucky's hair and gripped, and the sensation of Bucky moaning against his skin made him lightheaded. Bucky slowly licked a stripe up Steve's neck, then fastened his teeth on Steve's pulse point. At Steve's surprised moan, Bucky licked over the bite mark, then pressed open-mouthed kisses down to the hem of Steve's T-Shirt.

"Come on, Stevie," Bucky purred, and his voice was so rough and deep that Steve almost blew his load right there. "You gonna take me home, or am I gonna hafta get you to fuck me in the back alley?"

Steve groaned, deep in his throat, and suddenly the dream shifted, and they were in a dark bedroom, and Bucky's lips were back on his. Steve wrapped his arms tight around Bucky's waist and lifted him almost off the ground, and Bucky moaned and pulled on Steve's hair as they both toed off their shoes and socks. Then Steve was pushed back and he fell onto the bed, flat on his back, and Bucky was crawling over his legs and straddling his hips, pulling Steve's shirt over his head as he kissed him. The shirt was thrown to the side, and Steve was suddenly so desperate for skin-to-skin contact that he didn't even both with the buttons on Bucky's shirt, instead just ripping it open and pushing the tattered remains off Bucky's shoulders.

Then they were rolling, and Steve was back on top, Bucky's fingers scrabbling to undo both of their flies one-handed. Steve reached over to the chest of drawers next to the bed, sifting through the top drawer until his hand found the small bottle that he knew would be there. Bucky pushed Steve's jeans and underwear down, before doing the same to himself and opening his legs enough so that Steve could slide down his body and settle between them.

Steve popped the cap of the bottle and snuck a look at Bucky. He was flushed from his ears to halfway down his chest, his hair a complete mess. His eyes were wide and dark, the grey-blue irises practically gone, swallowed in the black of his pupils. The kohl was still there, by some miracle, smeared across his eyes and down his cheeks. His mouth was open and panting, the bright red of his lips contrasting nicely with his normally pale skin. He looked ethereal. Steve drizzled some lube onto his fingers and leaned up to kiss Bucky when he pushed the first finger in, swallowing down the soft cry of pleasure as he breached the ring of muscle.

"I love you," Steve murmured against Bucky's lips, crooking his finger and slowly adding another. Bucky gasped and clutched at Steve's shoulder, his breath hot on Steve's face.

"Stevie, c'mon," he panted. "Come on, get it in me, I can take it, baby, let's go -"

Steve leaned down to kiss him again, but it wasn't much of a kiss - more of just panting into each other's mouths. Bucky's hand snuck between them to wrap around Steve's cock, and Steve moaned at the crook of his wrist. 

Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and, before Steve knew what was going on, flipped them again and pulled Steve's fingers out of his hole. 

"Stay there," he purred, and leaned down to lick a stripe up Steve's pec to his neck, his lips fastening over the tattoo. As soon as his lips touched Steve's skin, they were gone, and Steve was left whining and arching his back, trying to follow Bucky's lips. Bucky just grinned devilishly at him from his spot straddling Steve's hips and reached around himself to slip three of his fingers inside himself. Bucky moaned softly, head tilted back as he slowly ground down onto his fingers, his cock brushing against Steve's as he moved. Steve laid his head back on the pillow and tried desperately to catch his breath, but it was almost impossible with Bucky rolling his hips like that, gaze fixed on Steve and eyes half-lidded with lust.

"Come on, baby," Steve breathed, reaching up to rest his hands on Bucky's hips. "You're so beautiful like this, Buck, so ready for me."

"Stevie," Bucky groaned, baring his neck as his head tipped back. "I'm ready baby, get it in me now, come on -"

Steve reached up to brush some of Bucky's hair out of his face, stroking his cheek. Bucky leaned into it as he took his fingers out, whining softly at the sudden emptiness that Steve knew he must be feeling. Steve pulled him down to kiss him softly, much more softly than their last few kisses. Then he was pushing in slowly, and Bucky's body quivered above him as he finally bottomed out, his balls flush against Bucky's ass. Steve wrapped his arms tight around Bucky's waist as he slowly thrust upwards, the breath leaving Bucky in a gasp at every movement of Steve's hips. Steve rolled them over, and the pace was so different than what it had been just minutes before, and they were trading sweet, long kisses and whispering "I love you" into each other's skin, and Bucky's legs were wrapped tightly around Steve's hips, not giving him much room to pull out, so they were just rolling their hips into each other, Steve constantly buried to the hilt inside Bucky. And their climaxes slowly built up, and when Bucky came, he came untouched, head thrown back and lips parted in a silent cry as he emptied out onto their stomachs. And just the sight of that was enough to tip Steve over the edge too, and he came with his face buried in Bucky's neck, and Bucky's fingers carting through his hair.

And when Steve woke up, alone with the sheets kicked around his ankles and a growing wet patch on his underwear, the wave of guilt and shame almost knocked him back under.

\------

It was kind of pathetic how much Steve missed Bucky.

Like, seriously. It had barely been a week, and the highlight of Steve's day was his Skype sessions with Bucky, who he'd come to think of as one of his best friends.

But as much as Steve missed him, and wanted to get back to Brooklyn as soon as possible, there was still the problem of The Dream. So, Steve had a wet dream. Not much of a big deal - he was a teenager, after all, and Bucky was incredibly attractive, so honestly, Steve was slightly surprised that it took him so long to have a sexual dream about Bucky. The main Problem was that it wasn't just a sexual dream. 

Steve knew that he had a crush. It was pretty obvious, but he was sure that it would go away on its own. But that dream had pretty much crushed that idea, and had shed some light on the fact that _it was definitely not just a crush._ And that was what scared Steve the most.

But Steve was a reasonably smart guy, and he knew that he couldn't just make the feelings go away - that was ridiculous. Honestly, Bucky could probably murder someone and Steve would help hide the body. He was in that deep. 

But if Steve really thought about it, nothing had changed. Sure, he'd figured out he was in love - _Jesus Christ, he was in love_ \- but that didn't stop him from acting the same way around Bucky that he always had.

And he wasn't going to let his feelings ruin their friendship.

And his feelings had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he set the picture of Bucky in a sombrero with a moustached waiter at a Mexican restaurant to his laptop wallpaper.

And they had nothing to do with the fact that when Bucky Skyped him wearing a bright purple fedora with an embedded peacock feather, he'd laughed until he almost passed out.

To be completely honest, when it came to the tasks he was setting Bucky, Steve was just making them up off the top of his head. But it didn't matter - he was making Bucky laugh, and feel like he wasn't a complete failure. And that was enough.

"You know, you're the only reason I'm getting out of bed in the morning," Bucky said quietly one day. His hair was loose and falling onto his shoulders, and with his head ducked, Bucky could hide behind it. "If it wasn't for those stupid tasks, I'd just be lying there all day stewing in self-hatred and grief." He huffed, and when he flicked the hair out of his face, Steve saw tears in his eyes. "God, I'm so pathetic."

"That's not pathetic," Steve said gently, leaning forward. "You're not weak, Buck."

Bucky looked up at him, and a tear made its way slowly down his cheek. Steve had to stop himself from crying. "You've just been strong for too long."

Bucky laughed humourlessly and wiped at his face. "God, I miss you," he choked out. "You are not leaving my line of vision for at least two days when you come back, okay?"

"Yeah, Buck," Steve managed to say, his vision blurring with tears. "I promise, I won't be going anywhere."

"And I'll take you to the Mexican place," Bucky continued, and the tears started falling down Steve's face, no matter how much he tried to stop them. "The one with the ten-dollar nachos. And we'll watch _Footloose_ together. And I can show you some of my terrible piano playing."

"We'll go to a thrift store. To get you a keyboard or something so you can practise," Steve promised. "And I'll take you to a Howling Commandoes gig, and we can dance while listening to Morita sing about the weird sex he had that week."

Bucky let out a choked laugh. "I can't dance, you know."

"I'll teach you."

In the second week of the holidays, Steve and Peggy went camping. Normally, Steve loves camping with Peggy - they grab the old tent from the garage, a couple of sleeping bags, and the old billy, then they stop at some country general store to grab food, matches and firelighters, then they set up down at the river in the old farmer's field, the one who doesn't care if they're there as long as they don't kill his cows, and whose wife sometimes gives them freshly baked pie, and they just spend their time enjoying each other's company without anyone else around. But those few days felt like torture. Peggy seemed to be completely fed up with his constant moping, but still found it funny to make fun of him.

"Have you ever thought of telling him how you feel?" she asked.

"His dad just died, Pegs," Steve retorted. "I can't put this on him now. I just need to be there for him."

"You're really gone on him, aren't you?" Peggy said, and the wonder in her voice was enough to make Steve turn away from where he was stoking the fire to look at her face. "You're actually in love with him."

"Of course I am," Steve sighed, not even bothering to deny it. Peggy would see right through it, anyway. "He's incredible. He's beautiful and smart and funny, and he's disabled but can do more than most people I know who have both their arms, and he has this dry sense of humour that has me in absolute stitches, and he's really hostile when you first meet him but then you get to know him and he's just the sweetest guy. And he loves with every fibre of his being, and he's stronger than anyone I know, and..." Steve trailed off, feeling a tear slide down his face. He wiped it away quickly and busied himself with poking at a particular log. "So yeah. I love him."

"Oh Steve," Peggy said sadly, but didn't bring it up again.

As soon as they got back, Steve's dad told him to pack his bags.

"We're leaving," he grunted, and that was it. He didn't say anything else, and Steve knew better than to ask.

They left at six in the evening, London time, and the plane landed half an hour early, at seven-thirty, New York time.

"I'm going out," Steve's dad muttered, handing Steve his luggage without looking at him when they were standing at the baggage area. "I've called you an Uber. I'll be back tomorrow, maybe. If I'm not, I'll be back the next day. If I'm not -"

"I get it, dad," Steve cut in, and forced a smile. "Have fun."

"If that's your way of telling me not to get arrested again, you're not being subtle," Joseph Rogers said, then walked away. Steve sighed, wondering how he ended up with such an asshole for a dad.

The Uber arrived, and the driver was a very nice South American woman called Amelie. She was completely fine with Steve changing the address from the one that his dad had given to something else, and she chatted about her three cats and how they got along with her son's new Labrador puppy. Steve tipped her extra when he got out in front of Bucky's building, and she squeezed his cheek just like his mother used to do.

Steve hefted his bags onto his shoulders and walked up the three flights of stairs to Bucky's floor. Before he could second-guess himself, he knocked. He could hear the sounds of a TV from inside stop suddenly, then muted footsteps, like the person wasn't wearing shoes, approaching the door. Then the door opened. And Steve's heart stopped. 

Because Bucky was standing there. His hair fell in beautiful waves down his face, brushing the tips of his bare shoulders. He was just wearing a tank top and yoga pants, his feet bare. And he was the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen.

Steve didn't really know he was doing - he walked into the apartment, past Bucky, talking about why he was home a couple of days earlier than planned. He dropped his bags to the floor and turned around, the rest of his sentence dying on his lips at he met Bucky's eyes. They were wide and shocked, and absolutely incredible. 

Then they were both rushing forward, and Bucky flung his arm around Steve's neck, and Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist so tightly they were crushed together. And Bucky was so warm and solid in his arms, and he smelled like charcoal and eucalyptus trees that reminded Steve of his time in Australia with his ma. Bucky buried his face in Steve's neck, his breath warm on Steve's cold, rain-drenched skin, and how did Steve not even notice that it was raining when he was outside - and Steve just breathed in Bucky's scent, rested his head on top of Bucky's, pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

"You were gone for too long," Bucky croaked. Steve moved back slightly to look down at him - Bucky was glaring up at him with what was probably supposed to be anger but definitely wasn't, and his bottom lip was trembling ever so slightly. Steve reached up to brush a stray lock of hair off Bucky's face, and ghosted his thumb across that bottom lip. Bucky closed his eyes and took in a shuddering breath, and Steve cupped his face and leaned in to press their foreheads together. Bucky looked at him again with the most vulnerable look in his eyes, and Steve couldn't help but press a soft kiss to his forehead.

"I know," Steve murmured.

Bucky's hand moved from the back of Steve's neck to clutch the front of his shirt, and Steve started walking backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he slowly sank down until he was leaning back into the cushions. Bucky came right with him, and he was basically curled up in Steve's lap but he didn't seem to care, he just kept holding on so tight his knuckles were white. Steve curled a hand around Bucky's, the other hand coming up to cup Bucky's face. Bucky leaned into the touch, opening his eyes to look at Steve, and his eyes were so bright, so beautiful, that Steve found himself completely lost in them. And he didn't want to be found.

"Tell me," Steve whispered into Bucky's skin.

And Bucky told him everything. He told him about how George Barnes was found in a puddle of his own vomit, how Rebecca was angry all the time, how Winnifred had gone back to her cigarettes and Bucky was constantly finding empty bottles of vodka on the kitchen counter. Bucky didn't look at him when he spoke, instead tucking his head into the curve of Steve's neck and tracing his tattoo with a touch so light Steve could barely feel it. Bucky's shirt had ridden up to expose his hip where Steve's hand was, and Steve's thumb ran across the tanned skin, feeling the muscles ripple underneath. With his other hand, Steve ran his fingers through Bucky's hair, the strands silky to the touch. And when Bucky finished speaking, Steve just held onto him tighter.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," Steve finally said, his voice cracking. Bucky moved his head to look up at him, his eyes still a little wet, but no less beautiful.

"You did all you could," Bucky murmured. Steve moved his hand from Bucky's hair to cup his cheek, and Bucky leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. With his other hand, Steve intertwined his fingers with Bucky's and rested them on Bucky's thigh.

"I'm glad I'm back," Steve said, looking down at their joined hands. "Peggy's great, but she can be a handful. I'm not sure I could have coped with more time with those assholes Dad calls friends. I'm almost excited to get back to school. It'll be a relief to return to... order."

"Status quo is good," Bucky mumbled, and Steve looked up to see Bucky already looking at him. Feeling almost hesitant, Steve brushed a stray lock of hair from Bucky's face, before his hand went back to its original place cupping his cheek.

"Yeah," Steve breathed. "It is."

Bucky's eyes were just the most interesting colour - they were grey and blue, somehow managing to be a bright colour and pale at the same time. 

"So... How far have you gotten with your Disney homework?" Steve murmured, brushing his thumb across Bucky's lips again. Bucky blushed and looked down.

"I haven't started," he admitted. Steve let out an overdramatic gasp, and Bucky let out a small laugh. 

"Unacceptable! Get off your ass - we're going to binge them." Then Steve made a face. "I should probably shower, first. Look at the list, start downloading - I'll be out in a bit."

Bucky slid off Steve's lap and held out a hand to help him up, and Steve couldn't even be upset at not having Bucky's body against his own, because they didn't let go of each other's hands until Steve went into the bathroom. 

He showered as quickly as possible and rifled around in his duffel for some clean clothes. He ended up just finding a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants, given that everything else was covered in mud and dirt.

When Steve got into the bedroom, Bucky was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, tapping away at the laptop with his brow furrowed and lips pursed in concentration, and the expression made Steve feel like his body was melting into a puddle. Bucky looked up when he came in, and the smile that split across his face could have powered continents.

When they started the first movie - Snow White - they were sitting next to each other, thighs and arms brushing. Then halfway through the movie Steve couldn't take it anymore, and lifted Bucky up and settled him back down between his legs, mumbling something about not being able to see the screen. Bucky didn't seem to mind, because he just leaned back against Steve's chest and pulled Steve's arms around him. As they finished the first movie and moved on to Cinderella, Steve could feel Bucky growing more relaxed against him, and it wasn't until the prince was slipping the shoe onto Cinderella's foot that Steve realised that Bucky had fallen asleep.

"It wouldn't kill you to stay awake for the whole movie, y'know," Steve mumbled, but he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face when he closed the computer, turned off the bedside light, and lay down. Bucky just sighed in his sleep and snuggled closer, and if Steve didn't know any better, he'd think that the sound Bucky made was a purr. 

"Sleep well, Buck," Steve whispered, and before he could stop himself, he pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead. That night, Steve got the best night's sleep he'd had since his ma died.

\------

Joseph Rogers started getting antsy around February. He spent less and less time in the house, constantly going out with friends or flying somewhere to do something or other. Steve didn't know, and he didn't particularly care. What he did care about was whether or not his dad would drag him along the next time he wanted to get out.

So Steve got a job, at the animal shelter a few blocks from his apartment. Bucky came to visit him whenever he could, and the image of Bucky cuddling puppies was something that Steve could never have possibly prepared for. As it were, he almost dropped dead on the spot. It should be illegal how well Bucky pushed his buttons, and Bucky didn't even seem to know that he was doing it.

It wasn't long after when Steve got The Call. He was sitting in the IT office, watching Bucky as he sketched Tony. Steve always loved watching Bucky sketch - he got this little crease in his eyebrows, and his lips would purse, and he'd almost always get smudges of grey lead all over his fingertips, and then he'd rub his face and leave smudges on his cheeks and nose, and it was just the cutest thing that Steve had ever seen. Despite this, it didn't stop Steve from being as annoying as he possibly could.

"Buck, come on," Steve whined, sticking out his bottom lip as he looked at Bucky pleadingly. "It's perfect outside and I need some sun." Bucky looked up at him, obviously unimpressed. 

"God forbid the Golden Boy goes without sun for too long," Bucky said dryly. "You might just run out of happiness."

"I'd like to see that day!" Tony called from the other side of the room, not looking up from his computer. Steve threw a pen at him. 

"You don't have to wait up for me, you know," Bucky reminded him, and Steve sighed.

"Well, I have a Formal meeting at lunchtime. Dad and I are in Massachusetts from Friday afternoon till Sunday. When else are we going to hang out?" Steve pointed out. Bucky sighed and leaned back in his chair, tucking the pencil he was using behind his ear. Taking this as a positive sign, Steve slid off the desk and kneeled between Bucky's legs, propping his elbows up on Bucky's thighs and putting his head in his hands. Steve turned up the pleading look on his face, but by the way Bucky rolled his eyes, it didn't seem to be working. 

"Are you doing this on purpose?" Bucky asked in a low voice, leaning forward slightly. His hair fell down and brushed against Steve's face. Steve wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

"Doing what?" Steve asked, trying to be as innocent as possible without letting himself laugh. 

"If you two start having sex over there, I'm out," Tony called. Without taking his eyes off Bucky, Steve grabbed another pen and threw it at Tony. It hit him in the forehead, and Bucky actually giggled at Tony's indignant squawk. Steve was completely whipped.

It was then that his phone buzzed, and Steve reluctantly broke eye contact with Bucky to pull it out of his pocket.

_Unknown Number: Hey, this is Carol Danvers. I'm the owner of the Milk Crate Bar and Nightclub. A few months ago, you sent a CD in to us with some of your original music, and we were wondering if you could come in and perform tonight. One of the bands has had to drop out at the last second, and it would be much appreciated if you could fill in. Please call this number to confirm or deny our offer. _

"Everything okay?" 

Steve looked up from his phone to see Bucky looking at him in concern.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," Steve stammered, pushing himself off the ground. "I just need to, uh, make a phone call. I'll, uh, I'll be right back."

Before Bucky could respond, Steve was turning around and walking out of the office as quickly as possible.

He found a quiet spot just near the bike racks at the front of the school and quickly hit call.

"This is Carol Danvers," a cool female voice said.

"Uh, hi. This is Steve Rogers? I'm calling about the, uh, the performance you want me to do tonight?"

"Oh, yes!" Carol Danvers sounded almost excited. "Y'know, when you sent in that CD, I had no idea how much I'd love your songs. They're like, I dunno, pretty much nothing I've heard before. It would be amazing if you were free tonight to come in."

"Yeah, I can come in," Steve said numbly.

"Great! Uh, your set will probably start around nine, but you should probably come in around eight-fifteen, and you'll be the second of the two bands playing. If you could play three or four songs, it'd be perfect."

"Okay. I'll see you then."

"I'm looking forward to it. Catch you later, Rogers."

When Steve pulled the phone away from his ear, his hands were shaking. 

"Oh Jesus," he muttered, leaning against the wall behind him. His legs felt weak, and he was pretty sure all the blood had left his face. He was an idiot - a complete idiot. He was an idiot for sending in the CD in the first place, he was an idiot for calling Carol Danvers, he was an idiot for actually agreeing to do it. Steve was so screwed.

It was a few minutes later when Steve realised that he should probably get to class, and he pushed off the wall and made his way back to his locker. His hands were still shaking.

Steve got into English about ten minutes late and dropped into the empty seat closest to the door. He had no idea what the teacher was talking about - it might have been poetry - but he couldn't concentrate. Instead, he fiddled with his necklace, the rough surface of the chain grounding him. The pendants clinked against each other softly.

Time blended as the day went on, and by lunchtime, Steve felt like he was about to faint. As soon as the bell sounded, he grabbed his stuff and slipped out the door before anyone else, walking to his locker as quickly as he could. 

"Steve?" 

Steve almost hit his head on his locker and closed it before it could do him any more harm. He turned around to see Bucky there, eyebrows creased in worry.

"Oh. Hey, Buck."

Steve could feel his hand trembling again, and reached up to grab his necklace. He couldn't look Bucky in the eye.

"Is everything alright?" Bucky asked worriedly.

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine." The world was spinning. Steve felt like he was going to faint.

He was pulled out of his own head by Bucky's hand, all long fingers and smudged fingertips, curling around his own where he was grasping the chain. Steve flicked his gaze from the hallway's walls to Bucky's face, mapping out everything that he knew about it. The little dimple on his chin, the curve of his lips, the freckle just under his eye, the high cheekbones, the little crease above his eyebrows. Bucky's grey-blue eyes were focused on him like a laser, concern etched into every feature of his beautiful face.

"Come on, Stevie," Bucky pleaded softly. The unspoken _tell me what's wrong, let me help you_ was almost palpable. Steve paused, before grabbing Bucky's sleeve and dragging him into the closest classroom. Steve sent out a silent prayer of thanks when he found that it was empty.

Steve spun around to face Bucky as soon as the door was closed, running his hands through his hair. "Bucky, I think I did something stupid. Well, not stupid, just hasty, a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, you know? And now I'm kinda in a bit of a mess, and I'm not sure what to do, and-"

"Hey, it's okay, Stevie," Bucky said, and his voice was quivering slightly. He looked scared. Steve let out a shuddering breath and sat down in the closest chair, his legs no longer able to hold up his weight. Bucky sat on the desk in front of him, and he was close enough that Steve could have rested his head on his thigh. He didn't, though - he just kept his grip on Bucky's wrist.

"I'm supposed to do this thing," Steve finally said. "I signed up for it ages ago, on a stupid high streak, and I was definitely just a little bit drunk, and now they've called me and they want me to come in tonight, but I can't do it, Bucky, I can't-"

"Stevie," Bucky said gently, and Steve immediately went silent. Bucky raised his hand to cup Steve's cheek, his palm warm and soft against Steve's clammy skin. Steve sighed softly and leaned into the touch.

"I sort of... write," Steve mumbled, feeling his cheeks flush. "Songs. Music. I'm not that good. I don't even want to perform, at all. Dad thinks I'm just messing around, and so he lets me do it even if he doesn't really approve, but whenever he's gone... I work really hard at it. And I had this burst of... recklessness, I guess, and I sent a demo disc out to this bar that does open-mic things. And they just called me. They had someone drop out tonight, and... and they asked me to fill in. Tonight."

Bucky was silent for a few seconds. "You sing?" he finally asked.

"No! Well, yes, but I'm not good at it," Steve said, knowing he was just repeating the same phrases over and over. He ran a hand through his hair as he felt his heart rate pick up again. "And I've never sung in front of people before, not even just one person! And it's a bar - I mean, people are going to pay real money to listen to me singing my own songs, not someone else's songs but _my own songs,_ and I'm supposed to be there on stage and do it-"

Steve cut himself off and pushed himself out of the chair, starting to pace the classroom. His mind was going a million miles a minute, and it felt as if his brain was about to spontaneously combust. Suddenly there was a firm hand on his shoulder spinning him around, and Bucky was standing right in front of him, close enough that Steve could feel Bucky's breath on his face. 

"Steve," Bucky said firmly. "Calm down."

Steve looked at him for a few seconds, before he grabbed Bucky and pulled him close, burying his face in the crook of Bucky's neck. Bucky lifted his hand to stroke his fingers through Steve's hair, and Steve shuddered at the feeling, melting into Bucky's embrace. 

"I recorded the stuff on my laptop in my bedroom," Steve mumbled. "The music industry is brutal, I know that, and if my dad finds out, he'll go mental. He doesn't want a son that's into music, and I thought that I could do this and now I can't back out and I don't want Dad to find out, because if he did-"

"_Uspokoysya lyubov'_," Bucky interrupted, and although Steve had absolutely no idea what he was saying, he fell silent. "Stevie, _ty idiot_, you gotta calm down." He pulled away, but Steve kept his head down, not wanting to meet his eyes. Bucky held his chin in his hand and gently guided Steve's face upwards, and Steve reluctantly took his eyes from the ground to focus on Bucky's. "Listen. Obviously, you've thought about this for a while, right? It's not like you've only written one song in one night, and done nothing else, right?"

"No, I've been writing for ages," Steve admitted, leaning into Bucky's touch. "But I've never shown them to anyone. And I've never sung in front of people before, not even Peggy. It makes me wanna vomit and pass out... I can speak in front of people, easy, but I can't sing, I just can't, Buck."

"Okay, you have stage fright. That's okay. Everyone has to be scared of something," Bucky said gently, before pausing. "For example, I'm terrified of birds."

Steve couldn't stop the surprised laugh that ripped itself out of his throat. Bucky smiled at him and brushed his thumb over Steve's bottom lip. The pads of his thumb were rougher than the rest of his hand, and Steve felt his eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

"But you like songwriting, right? It's something you wanna do?"

Steve sighed in frustration - not with Bucky, but with himself. "I don't know. Maybe. Yes. I mean, I'd like to write songs for other people. I always have music and words floating around in my mind, but I don't have dreams of winning a Grammy or anything. And my dad-"

"Doesn't need to know anything." Bucky brushed some hair off Steve's forehead, his touches still feather-light. "Steve, forget about your dad. You're not doing this for him. In fact, he can go to hell as far as I'm concerned. But if you really don't want to, you don't have to. It's your call. But... you sent the disc in, didn't you?"

"I thought I could handle it." Steve's voice came out embarrassingly small.

"And you can."

Steve looked up at him, not nearly prepared enough to see the sincerity shining in Bucky's eyes. He felt his throat closing up. 

"You think so?"

Bucky laughed softly. "Stevie, if you put your mind to it, you could win wars. You could probably solve everything wrong with the world. And if you've been able to put up with my depressed ass for six months then you can bet that you can get up on a stage and sing to a couple of drunk guys."

Steve felt his face heat up. "You sound so confident," he murmured. "You've never even heard me sing."

"It doesn't matter, _moy dorogoy_," Bucky said softly, stroking Steve's cheek. "It's you."

Steve closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. He clung onto Bucky like a lifeline, listening as his heartbeat slowly receded to a healthy pattern. 

"Buck, if I'm really gonna do this..." Steve started, feeling almost embarrassed. "I mean, I know that you have plans at home, but-"

"I'll come," Bucky said immediately, and Steve would be lying to himself if he said he didn't sag with relief. "Of course I'll be there."

"You and the guys? I just... I need a few friendly faces."

"Just us. I promise."

Steve smiled, and reached forward to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Bucky's ear. It was soft as it curled around his fingertips. "Thanks, Buck."

With reluctance, Steve loosened his grip on Bucky and stepped away, starting to move towards the door.

"Hey, Steve?" Bucky suddenly said. Steve turned back around to look at him, taking in his flushed appearance, ruffled shirt, and wide eyes. He looked almost ethereal.

"Yeah?" Steve tried to ignore the small waver in his own voice.

Bucky swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. He almost looked shy. "You're going to be great."

Steve felt his face split into a smile as warmth flooded his chest. "Alright, Jamie."

\------

Steve got to the Milk Crate at 8:12 to see the first band setting up - about ten tall, dark-skinned women with shaved heads and red robes. A muscled, blonde woman was helping them with the speakers, and she turned around when Steve entered.

"Steve Rogers?" She stood up, wiping her hands on her jeans as she approached him. "I'm Carol Danvers."

"Nice to meet you," Steve heard himself say distantly. Carol smiled at him and shook his hand. She almost crushed his fingers. 

"You're not up for another forty-five minutes, but there are dressing rooms off to the right, down there," Carol said, pointing behind the stage to where a corridor ran. "Just go get ready, and we'll call you out when it's your turn."

"Sure."

Carol smiled at him, then turned back around to keep helping with the speakers. One of the women in the band walked up to him, and it took a couple of seconds for Steve to realise who it was.

"Okoye?"

"Hey, Rogers." Okoye grinned, all teeth. It was more than slightly intimidating. "Didn't know you were into music."

"It's not exactly something I talk about much," Steve admitted, slowly feeling the situation sink in. 

"Well, if you get bored in your dressing room, you can come out and listen to us," Okoye said, then paused. "Actually, T'Challa's here too - his sister Shuri's in the band, too, and she dragged him here. He'll probably be in our dressing room."

"Good to know." 

Okoye gave him a once-over and raised an eyebrow. "You're looking a little green there, Rogers. You alright?"

"I'm fine," Steve assured her, although he felt very far from fine. "Good luck on your show."

Okoye gave him another shark-like grin before she went back onstage. Steve made it to his dressing room before collapsing against the closed door, his heart rate far too fast to be healthy. The room was too small, too hot, and Steve staggered across to the ensuite, splashing cold water on his face with shaking hands. He gripped the sides of the sink and looked up into the mirror, making eye contact with his reflection.

"Come on, Rogers," Steve muttered. "It's just a couple of songs. The majority of people will probably be too drunk to remember you, anyway."

He didn't know how long he stood in front of that mirror, in a staring competition with his pale and sick-looking reflection, but it seemed like both hours and minutes later when there was a knock at the door. Steve was across the room in seconds, flinging the door open, and _thank god_ Bucky was standing there. Steve barely looked at him, instead just grabbing him and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him. 

"Oh thank god you're here, I can't do this, I'm gonna throw up," Steve babbled, running his hands through his hair. He didn't even care that he'd styled it before he came. 

"_Vyglyadish' potryasayushche_," Bucky murmured, his tone wondrous. If it was any other scenario, Steve would have been very aroused as well as confused, considering he didn't know a lick of Russian, but he was so busy almost giving himself a heart attack that he was a little preoccupied. 

Steve suddenly realised that his hands had started shaking badly again, and he gripped Bucky's hips to try and steady himself when the world started spinning. "Buck, I don't think I can do this." 

"Okay, you need to relax," Bucky said, his voice even. "Calm down." 

Steve took a deep breath, then another. Then he forgot how to exhale. Unable to stay still any longer, he let go of Bucky and started pacing. "I don't know why I did this, I can't do this, oh _god_-" As he spoke, Steve could feel his arms flying everywhere in wild gestures, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. 

Then Bucky was in front of him again, resting his hand on top of Steve's tattoo, just on his collarbone. His hand was cool and soft, and it was enough to get Steve to stop moving. 

"Stevie, look at me," Bucky said firmly, his nails digging into Steve's skin ever so slightly. Steve lowered his head to meet Bucky's eyes, trying to focus on the calm and determined look on his face, the slight twinkle in his eyes. Bucky ran his tongue over his bottom lip and ducked his head slightly, and Steve couldn't help but follow the movement. 

"Listen, Steve," Bucky started, sounding uncharacteristically shy. "I... I'm not good with words. I never have been. So if you're expecting some amazing speech like the ones in the movies, you're gonna be disappointed. But... I know that you always know the right thing to say, and the right thing to do. I can't imagine it'll be any different when you sing." 

He took a deep breath and looked back up at Steve. "You're the bravest person I know. And I know that you can do this because it's you. Just... I don't know. Pretend it's just me out there." 

Steve felt as if his chest was melting. Without breaking eye contact with Bucky, he wrapped his hand around Bucky's from where it was still resting on Steve's collarbone and pressed a gentle kiss on the knuckles. The skin was warm and soft under his lips. Bucky's eyes were wide, his pupils blown out to only show a sliver of those beautiful irises. His lips were parted slightly, and so red that Steve wouldn't have been surprised if he was wearing lipstick. He could feel Bucky's breath against his cheek. 

There was a smattering of applause from the bar, and Bucky stepped away slightly, blinking as if he'd started dissociating. Steve shook his head slightly, trying to dispel some of the panic that had set in again once he remembered where he was, and gave Bucky a shaky smile. 

"Wish me luck?" he joked, but it fell flat. But Bucky smiled anyway, tucking some stray hair behind his ear. 

"You won't need it." 

"But I want it anyway." 

Something in Bucky's eyes softened, and before Steve knew what was happening, Bucky had closed the distance between them, stood on his toes, tangled his finger in Steve's hair, and pressed a kiss to Steve's cheek. Steve turned his head slightly to look at Bucky, and their noses brushed slightly. There was a look in Bucky's eyes that Steve couldn't place, but he felt like he was drunk on it. 

"Good luck," Bucky whispered, and his breath ghosted against Steve's lips. Before Steve could move, Bucky unwound his arm from Steve's shoulders and stepped away, giving him one last smile before he left the room. 

Steve blinked once, then again. And because he was a total cliché, he lifted his hand to press his fingers against his cheek, where Bucky had kissed him. The skin burned as if he'd been branded. 

Steve was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Carol's voice on stage, and quickly grabbed his guitar from its stand and walked out of the room, coming into the bar to the sounds of applause. The lights were bright and far too hot, and as Steve took a seat on the stool in front of the microphone, all he could think of was not keeling over and dying right there. 

Then he remembered Bucky's face, the look in his eyes when he told Steve that he was the strongest person he knew, and the warmth of having Bucky pressed against his body, holding him tight. 

Steve reached out to adjust the microphone, his heartbeat loud in his ears. The bar was crowded, that much he could see through the lights - and most people were having their own conversations, not paying attention to the stage. 

Steve looked back down at the guitar in his hands and positioned his fingers on the strings. Then he took a deep breath, and let the music sweep him away. 

He didn't pay attention to what was happening around him, not noticing the bar go quieter and quieter as he went through his songs. First he sang about his mother, about her laugh that brightened up the tiny, godforsaken village where nine out of ten children died before they reached eighteen, and how tuberculosis ripped through her whole body and ate away at her soul, but she still managed to be full of life and love when she was taking her last breaths. Then there was the war that Steve had been too young to participate in, but had seen the effects, had held a man down at the age of twelve as a medic that had run out of painkillers stuffed his insides back into his body, the man's screams and the stench of blood and intestinal fluid permeated the air. Then Steve sang about finding himself after those bloody, terrible years in the land of no trees in the form of his whip-smart, firecracker of a best friend in London, with her red lips and chocolate curls. 

Steve came back to himself after the third song, and as he strummed the last chord, the crowd exploded. Steve was pretty sure he could hear Clint's whooping somewhere in there, and couldn't stop the smile that curled his lips. 

"Thanks, everyone," Steve said into the microphone, trying to look past the bright lights to see the crowd - to see Bucky. "Uh, this is gonna be my last song. I just wanted to say thanks to my friends for coming here tonight. Especially my friend Bucky. I would've probably passed out on my way to the stage if it wasn't for you." 

A voice that was definitely Clint's whistled, before it was cut off rather suddenly with a sharp slap, then a yelp. Steve, along with quite a few of the other bar patrons, laughed. 

Focusing back on his guitar, Steve took a deep breath. He felt the tingling of nerves beneath his skin, but his hands were steady where they held the guitar. He'd only just written the last song, and knowing that the muse for the song was sitting somewhere in the room in front of him made Steve's nerves set on fire. 

But he lowered his fingers to the strings anyway, and started to play. 

And as Steve lost himself further and further in the song, as he belted out the lyrics with as much emotion he could muster, he could have sworn he felt the weight of Bucky's eyes on him. 

As soon as Steve finished the song he stood up and gave a little bow, stepping off stage and walking down the corridor before the applause had stopped. From the dressing room beside his, Steve could hear arguing, the voices familiar. He was half-tempted to knock and find out what was actually going on in there, but when he heard a thump and a moan, that thought went out of his head pretty quickly. 

Stopping in his dressing room only to put his guitar back in its case and splash some cold water on his face, Steve walked back out into the bar, spotting Natasha's bright red hair in a booth near the back. He made his way over, examining his friends. Natasha was sipping delicately from a shot glass, her green eyes glittering in amusement. Clint was probably in the middle of some epic story because he was gesticulating like he was trying to swat imaginary flies. Bucky was facing away from him, and all Steve could see of him was his hand, curled around a beer bottle. 

As soon as he got close enough, Natasha slid out of the booth to wrap her arms around his neck, and Steve couldn't help but sag against her as her hand started stroking his hair. "You were great," she murmured. 

"God, I thought I was gonna die up there," Steve mumbled into her shoulder. "My knees are still shaking." 

Steve felt another pair of arms wrap around them, and it took him a few seconds to realise that Clint had gotten up too, and was hugging them both. He was practically vibrating with excitement. 

"Holy shit, dude!" he shrieked in Steve's ear, and both Steve and Natasha winced. "You were like, so amazing, I can't even begin to describe it." 

Steve laughed as he tried to get his arms around both of them at the same time. "Thanks, guys. Jesus, I need a drink." 

Natasha and Clint let go of him, and Steve almost collapsed into the booth next to Bucky. He barely noticed when Natasha went off to get more drinks. 

"What did you think?" Steve asked quietly. Now that he was closer, Steve could see that Bucky's eyes were slightly red, and when he brought the beer bottle to his lips, his hand was shaking. 

"You were incredible," Bucky finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. When Steve looked at him, his eyes were soft and sincere. 

"Thanks, Buck. You have no idea. I thought I was gonna cry up there, but I feel great now. I'm really glad you didn't let me leave." Steve ran a hand through his hair, suddenly realising that someone was missing from the group. "Where's Sam?" 

"We ran into T'Challa on our way to your dressing room," Bucky replied. He sounded slightly distant like he was off in his own mind. "He was here to watch Okoye and the Dora Milaje. I haven't seen him since." 

"So they talked?" Steve asked, his mind going to the sounds that he'd heard from the other dressing room. 

"As far as I know." 

Steve nodded and picked at the worn wood of the table absentmindedly. "That's good." 

"Yeah. It's good," Bucky echoed. Steve turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. Bucky was looking at him strangely, the same way he did in the dressing room. 

"Why are you so quiet?" Steve asked, nudging Bucky's shoulder with his own. 

"It's just... I've never heard you sing before," Bucky mumbled. "And... And you were absolutely incredible. Like, I don't really know what to say. I can't believe you never told me about it before. It's like there's this whole thing about you that I didn't know about." 

Steve felt guilt curl in his gut as he looked down at his lap, clasping his hands together. "I didn't mean to hide it. It's just... it's so personal, y'know? And I have no, well, objective measures for anything I write. I mean, how many sad emos out there call themselves songwriters, when all they have as a qualification is bad hair and the ability to rhyme. I listen to myself sometimes and occasionally think that bits of my stuff are okay, but-" 

"Steve," Bucky interrupted. His eyes were fierce. "You're too hard on yourself. You are amazing - screw what anyone else says. Although, I doubt anyone would diss your music. Did you hear the crowd?" 

Steve let out a short laugh, surprised when the sound wrenched itself from his chest. "I know. It's just... Everyone is hard on themselves," he said. "What about you and your drawing?" 

"Good point," Bucky sighed, leaning his head back on the vinyl. "It's like stripping naked and asking people to comment." 

"It's much more personal. A different kind of judgement," Steve agreed softly. Bucky turned his head to meet Steve's eyes. His gaze was soft. 

Steve was startled out of his thoughts by Natasha's return as she slammed several shots of vodka down on the table, a grin on her face. 

"I'm gonna dance," she announced. Without hesitation, Clint got up and took her hand, allowing her to drag him to the open space that Carol must have cleared without Steve noticing. Steve also didn't notice Sam's arrival, because when he slumped into the seat that Clint had just vacated Steve almost jumped out of his skin. And Sam did not look good - his eyes were red, and purple marks were blooming across his collarbone and up to his neck. As Steve was watching, Sam downed two of the shots in a row, barely flinching. 

"I'm gonna go, too," Steve decided, then looked over at Bucky. "You wanna dance?" 

"I don't dance," Bucky said immediately. 

"Bucky doesn't dance," Sam said immediately. 

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Fine. Sam, you wanna come?" 

"I'll just stay here," Sam said miserably, and tipped back another shot. Steve couldn't help wincing. 

"You sure?" Steve turned his attention back to Bucky, dialling up what Peggy called his 'puppy eyes'. "It'll be fun." 

Bucky hesitated, obviously thinking the decision over in his head. Finally, he sighed and held out his hand. "Alright." 

Steve felt his face split into a stupid grin, and he barely noticed Sam's incredulous look as he took Bucky's hand and pulled him out of the booth. 

When they reached the dancefloor, the song changed from some poppy dance song to something slower. "I have to warn you, I have no idea what I'm doing," Bucky said lightly. Steve smiled, placing his hands on the jut of Bucky's hips. Bucky hesitantly raised his hand to grip Steve's shoulder. 

"I'll teach you," Steve murmured, and pulled Bucky closer. He started moving them slowly, small box steps and twirls making it a relatively simple dance. As Bucky stopped stepping on his feet, Steve sped up the pace, and soon enough they were twirling around the dance floor easily. Bucky laughed quietly, and Steve couldn't help but wrap his arms fully around Bucky's waist at the quiet joy that was radiating out of him. Bucky's hand slid slowly up from Steve's shoulder to his neck, and he cupped the back of Steve's head in his palm. Steve felt a soft smile make its way onto his face, and he couldn't help but lean forward and rest their foreheads together. Bucky's eyelashes brushed Steve's cheek every time he blinked. 

After a few songs, Bucky stepped away, smiling at Steve before he turned his back and went to sit down. Steve could barely take his eyes off him the whole night. \------- Bucky wasn't there on Friday. Steve tried not to read too much into it when his texts went unanswered. 

_ _

_ _\------_ _

_ _

_ _Massachusetts was hell. That was the only way to describe it. Steve was pulled out of school halfway through Friday to drive up, and the drive there was maybe the tensest five hours Steve had ever had, with his father white-knuckling the steering wheel the entire time._ _

_ _Things hadn't gotten better between Steve and his dad - if anything, they'd gotten worse. Joseph was getting restless, that much was obvious - and Steve knew it was only a matter of time before he was leaving again. When they'd had a conversation about it, Steve had convinced him to stay until Steve's school was over, and although that was only five months now, it seemed to be lasting forever for Joseph. Steve was almost looking forward to being left behind when his dad flew off again. _ _

_ _The time in Massachusetts wasn't much better. Steve wasn't out to his father, for obvious reasons, so he had to sit there and listen to homophobic ex-military men reminisce over that one time they beat up the queer guy in their unit and got away with it, then threw a party when the guy was KIA. Steve felt sick to his core just listening to them, and eventually retreated to his hotel room. _ _

_ _Steve stared at his phone for a long time. Bucky still hadn't responded to his messages. _ _

_ _

_ _\------_ _

_ _

_ _On Monday, Steve felt as if he'd been hit by a bus. He'd slept for a total of about six hours since Thursday night, both from worry about Bucky and tenseness from being around men who would probably beat him close to death if they found out who he really was. _ _

_ _Steve knew that Bucky was at school - he saw flashes of him in English and the hallways, but every time he tried to get close, Bucky was gone again. The way he could just disappear would be impressive if Steve wasn't so desperate to talk to him. _ _

_ _He'd come to the conclusion that Bucky was avoiding him. He wasn't sure what exactly had caused it, but it definitely had something to do with the Thursday night. Something had changed between them - Steve could feel it. Bucky let his guard down, and more than once Steve was sure he was going to kiss him. Could Bucky have come to his senses? Could he feel creeped out by Steve's obvious feelings towards him?_ _

_ _Steve was so confused he could barely see straight. Maybe that was why he did nothing when Sharon Carter kissed him._ _

_ _Steve was standing at Bucky's locker at the end of the day, waiting for him to get out of class. Steve knew that Bucky's last class ran late because Mr Coulson was nothing if not thorough when it came to teaching. He knew that Bucky would come to his locker to put his books away before he went to the IT office, like he did every Monday. So there Steve was, his hands in his pockets as he scoured the hallway, not risking the chance of Bucky running away as soon as he sees Steve standing there. Steve was so occupied in his thoughts that he didn't see Sharon Carter approach until she was standing right in front of him._ _

_ _"Hey Stevie," she purred, and Steve almost jumped out of his skin._ _

_ _"Oh. Hey, Sharon," Steve said, giving her a polite smile before he went back to looking out for Bucky._ _

_ _"So I was wondering," Sharon started, and Steve bit back a groan. "I can't help but notice that you haven't bought your End of Year Formal ticket yet. And it turns out that I have a spare..." Sharon trailed off. Steve turned to look at her. She was leaning against the lockers to his right, arms folded and leaning forward, her breasts almost falling out of her top. _ _

_ _"Actually Sharon, I'm already going with someone," Steve said calmly, giving her another polite smile. "But it was nice of you to offer."_ _

_ _Sharon sighed, and took a step forward. Steve unconsciously leaned backwards. "Listen, I get that you're playing coy. I like that. But it's getting a bit tiring after like, seven months."_ _

_ _"What are you talking about?" Steve was truly at a loss._ _

_ _"I know you like me, Steve," Sharon purred, stepping forward again. Steve tried to take a step back, but she'd crowded him against the lockers. "I know I turn you on." She started nipping and sucking at Steve's neck, pressing her body up against him. Steve couldn't move. "So how about you get over yourself-" Sharon pawed at his crotch, and against everything Steve wanted, his dick perked up in interest. "-and let me have you."_ _

_ _Sharon didn't give Steve a chance to process before she was pressing her mouth against his. Steve let out an involuntary gasp, and Sharon took the chance to slip her tongue in. Steve knew that he was tired. In fact, he was so tired that he was half delirious. He hadn't eaten anything since seven that morning, he was stressed, and he felt like he was about to drop dead. So maybe that was why instead of pushing Sharon away, he put his hands on her hips and let her kiss him against Bucky Barnes' locker. _ _

_ _Sharon's hands were in his hair, her long nails scraping against his scalp, and Steve couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. He felt Sharon smile against his mouth, and she lifted her leg ever so slightly to slot it between Steve's, her knee rubbing against his half-hard dick. She tasted of lipstick, and it was so incredibly wrong, but Steve couldn't bring himself to push her away._ _

_ _"I feel like I'm interrupting something," a very familiar voice said loudly, and Steve all but threw Sharon off him. Bucky was standing in front of him, computer bag slung over his shoulder and books held in his one hand. That one hand was currently on his hip as Bucky raised an eyebrow. His hair was up in a messy bun, there were bags under his eyes, and he looked even worse than Steve felt._ _

_ _"Bucky, I've been waiting for you-" Steve started, as Bucky moved past him and opened his locker._ _

_ _"You looked pretty occupied to me," Bucky interrupted, venom so potent lacing his voice that Steve had to take a step back. Then Bucky turned to look at him, and Steve saw it in his eyes. He was devastated. _ _

_ _Of course. Steve could have kicked himself. It was so obvious - why Bucky never liked Sharon being around when they hung out, why he glared at her when he thought that Steve wasn't looking, why he was so pissed that Steve had been kissing her. Bucky had spent the last six years being put through hell by Sharon Carter and the people she hung around with - why _wouldn't_ he be upset that Steve had decided to pick her, of all people?_ _

_ _Not that Steve had picked Sharon at all._ _

_ _"I'll get out of your way," Bucky was saying, then he paused to throw a forced smile in Steve's direction. His eyes were glistening slightly. "Next time, don't do it against my locker."_ _

_ _Then he turned his back on Steve, and walked away. Steve barely noticed when Sharon put her hands on his body and sucked on his neck, because Bucky turned back to look at them, and yeah, that was definitely a tear that made its way down his cheek._ _

_ _And because Steve was weak, and an awful person, he went home with Sharon and stayed until two in the morning._ _

_ _

_ _\------_ _

_ _

_ _Steve woke up the next day with his head pounding, and a hole in his gut that felt like his insides had been scraped out with some form of gardening tool. _ _

_ _He only went to school because his dad was home, and he didn't feel like being in the house with him. Sam glared at him the entire way through Maths. Brock sat with him at recess and clapped him on the back - apparently, the entire school knew about him and Sharon. Fucking fantastic._ _

_ _At lunchtime, Sharon pressed him up against the wall again and kissed him hard. Steve went along with it for a few seconds before clarity finally returned to him and he pushed her away._ _

_ _"Sharon, I can't do this," Steve panted, wiping at his mouth. His hand came away smudged with pink lipstick._ _

_ _"Don't fool yourself, Stevie," Sharon purred, pressing her body back against his as if she'd never heard of consent. _ _

_ _"I'm being serious." Steve pushed her away again. Sharon's expression went from flirtatious to annoyed._ _

_ _"What is wrong with you?" she snapped. "You had no problem with it last night."_ _

_ _"Because I wasn't in my right mind last night," Steve shot back. "I was delirious with lack of sleep, and I couldn't do anything but lie there and take what you gave me. It was borderline rape, Sharon."_ _

_ _"Please," Sharon scoffed. "You enjoyed it just as much as I did. And I know that if I tried hard enough again, you'd come home with me, just the same as last time."_ _

_ _"There's this little thing called sexual harassment," Steve snapped. "If I tell you no, it means no. You should know this."_ _

_ _"Oh, I know what this is about," Sharon said, and her face curled into a sneer. "It's about that little queer boy, isn't it?"_ _

_ _"Don't call him that," Steve said sharply, not even needing the confirmation as to who it was. "Bucky's never done anything to you. Why are you so horrible to him?"_ _

_ _"Because he deserves it," Sharon said, and she was sneering at him, her delicate features twisted and ugly. "Because he's a fag who thinks he can get some pity points because of his drunk dad and whore mother, and lets anyone who would have him shove their dick in his ass or his mouth because he's desperate to have someone who isn't repulsed by him-"_ _

_ _Steve suddenly realised that Sharon had stopped talking, and was much closer, her eyes wide and afraid. It took a few seconds for Steve's mind to catch up with his body; when it did, he realised he'd just slammed her against the wall hard enough to hurt, and his body was shaking with anger._ _

_ _"If you ever think of talking about Bucky like that again," Steve snarled, tightening his grip on Sharon's shirt. "I will do everything in my power to make your life _hell._"_ _

_ _"You're crazy," Sharon said, and her voice wobbled. _ _

_ _"Stay away from Bucky, and stay away from me." Steve pushed her away and stalked down the corridor before Sharon could move._ _

_ _

_ _\-----_ _

_ _

_ _Tony called Steve that night._ _

_ _"Someone saw your little lover's spat with Carter," was his greeting, and Steve groaned. _ _

_ _"You should've heard what she said, Tony," he defended. "Anyone who wasn't sociopathic or a total dick would have done the same thing."_ _

_ _"Then do enlighten me, Rogers." Tony sounded tired. "Because it ain't looking good."_ _

_ _"She called Bucky a fag and hinted that he was a whore, she insulted his mother - who is an amazing woman, I'll have you know - and said, and I quote, 'lets anyone shove their dick in his ass or mouth, because he's desperate to have someone who isn't repulsed by him'."_ _

_ _Tony was silent for a few seconds._ _

_ _"I'll have this cleared up by Thursday," he finally said. "Stay home tomorrow. By the end of it, she'll be so far down in the social hierarchy that the chess geeks with look down on her." Steve had never heard Tony sound so angry. _ _

_ _"Thank you, Tony," Steve said, and he probably sounded far too relieved._ _

_ _"Why'd you kiss her in the first place, anyway?" Tony asked suddenly._ _

_ _"I didn't," Steve said. "She pressed me against the lockers, wouldn't take no for an answer, then basically tied me to her bed while she had her way with me while I was too tired to fight back."_ _

_ _More silence. "Oh yeah, she's gonna get it," Tony finally said. "That's rape, plain and simple." Quiet once again. Steve didn't know if he'd ever heard Tony be this quiet for so long ever. "You're in love with him, aren't you. Bucky, that is."_ _

_ _"Is it that obvious?"_ _

_ _"To everyone except Picasso himself, yeah."_ _

_ _Steve sighed. "And do you know why he's avoiding me?"_ _

_ _"I think you'll have to ask him that for yourself, Rogers."_ _

_ _When Steve hung up, he felt no less confused than before. _ _

_ _

_ _\------_ _

_ _

_ _On Tony's suggestion, Steve stayed home on Wednesday. When he told his dad, all he got was a grunt as Joseph Rogers packed his bags, muttering something about going to LA for an extended period of time._ _

_ _"I'll leave the credit card," he said gruffly and patted Steve's shoulder on the way past. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."_ _

_ _"I don't know if there is anything you wouldn't do," Steve shot back, and his dad cracked a small smile._ _

_ _"You're just like your mother."_ _

_ _And he was gone. _ _

_ _

_ _\-------_ _

_ _

_ _Steve went to school on Thursday. There was no sign of Sharon Carter. Tony patted him on the back when he saw him. Bucky was nowhere to be seen._ _

_ _

_ _\-----_ _

_ _

_ _Friday was much the same. Steve spent the breaks in the IT office, talking with Tony. For someone so hyper and egotistical, he was surprisingly good company. Natasha and Clint came in at one point, and Natasha put her feet in Steve's lap as she insulted him on his wardrobe. Clint just watched in amusement, chewing obnoxiously on a chocolate bar. Sam wandered in around halfway through lunch, looking dazed and happy._ _

_ _"What happened to you?" Natasha asked in amusement as he sat down._ _

_ _"I'm so in love," Sam sighed. Then T'Challa walked in, looking like the cat that got the cream. Steve couldn't help but snort with laughter._ _

_ _"Hey, where's Barnes?" Clint asked suddenly. "I haven't seen him like, all week."_ _

_ _"Last I saw him was on Wednesday," Tony said, not looking up from his computer. "He looked like shit, so he just spent the whole day in here with me. His style had gone from fashionably ragged to homeless. It was brutal, man."_ _

_ _"What's wrong with him?" Steve asked quietly. Sam looked over at him, a calculating look on his face._ _

_ _"He's just having some internal struggles at the moment," Sam finally said. Steve felt his stomach roll._ _

_ _"Anyway," T'Challa said silkily, casting a warning look at Sam. "Clint, you were telling me about your... dog, before?"_ _

_ _It was clear that he was just trying to change the subject, but Clint beamed and went into a long, enthusiastic story about the one-eyed Golden Retriever he'd found at the pound, and promptly took home and named Lucky._ _

_ _"His favourite food is pizza," Clint said proudly._ _

_ _"He's going to get diabetes by next year," Steve sighed._ _

_ _"I say six months," Natasha replied._ _

_ _Everything went smoothly until the last period - History. Steve was bored out of his mind, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the desk. Next to him, Clint was making some kind of structure out of pencils. _ _

_ _A phone dinged, and the teacher glared as Natasha pulled the phone out of her pocket and tapped at the screen, bringing it up to her ear. _ _

_ _"Where are you, Barnes? I've been looking for you all week," she hissed, and Steve straightened up slightly. Then Natasha went very still, and her eyes widened in horror. "Yeah, okay. We'll be right there."_ _

_ _She hung up quickly, and stood up. _ _

_ _"We need to go," she said quickly, then, without waiting for the teacher's permission, she grabbed Clint and Sam and pulled them out of the classroom. Steve watched them go, dread curling in his gut._ _

_ _It wasn't until eight that night when Steve got a call from Natasha._ _

_ _"Nat, what's going on?" he asked immediately._ _

_ _"Rebecca Barnes overdosed on heroin," Natasha said. Steve felt his whole body go cold. "She's in a really bad state. And James is -" She cut herself off, and Steve heard her take a deep breath. "I can't stay with him, I have a shift and he's making me leave. Sam and Clint aren't here, either." _ _

_ _Natasha paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was shaking. "Please, Steve. He needs someone here for him."_ _

_ _"Text me the hospital. He'll be in the emergency ward, right?" Steve asked, jumping off his bed and pulling on his jacket. _ _

_ _"Yeah. And Steve, please hurry. He's not doing well."_ _

_ _Steve quickly called an Uber, and the car was there within the next five minutes. He'd thought about taking his bike, since it would be a lot faster to get there because he could move between traffic, but Bucky would probably need a ride home, and Steve didn't want to put him in an uncomfortable situation. _ _

_ _When Steve got to the hospital, it was much later. The nurse at the front desk barely looked at him as he basically ran through the corridors. She was probably used to shit like that. _ _

_ _When Steve got to the waiting room of the emergency department, his first thought was that it was empty. Then he saw Winnifred Barnes knocked out and curled up in one of the hospital chairs. Then Steve saw Bucky._ _

_ _He looked terrible. His head was lowered, and greasy hair fell into his face. The clothes he was wearing looked like they hadn't been washed for days, and there was a stain on the front of his shirt that looked suspiciously like vomit. He was curled with his knees to his chest, and his hand was gripping the fabric of his sweatpants and shaking._ _

_ _"Buck?" Steve croaked out. Bucky looked up, and Steve's heart broke. His face was pale and sallow, his eyes red and swollen, with large bags underneath. His lips had been bitten until they bled. But he was still the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen._ _

_ _Bucky moved so fast that Steve barely saw him, but he managed to hold his arms out to catch Bucky when he barrelled into Steve's chest, flinging his arm around Steve's neck and almost crushing him. Steve wrapped his arm tightly around Bucky's waist, bringing his other hand up to stroke Bucky's hair. It was greasy and tangled, but Steve just worked the knots out slowly as Bucky sobbed into his shoulder. Bucky was shaking like a leaf, and Steve was terrified that he'd just fall apart. _ _

_ _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bucky kept mumbling over and over, and all Steve could think to do was apologize too. So he whispered apologies into Bucky's hair and kissed the top of his head, and moved slowly backwards so that he could sit down in one of the terrible hospital chairs, and Bucky came with him and curled up on his lap like a scared little child._ _

_ _"It's alright, Buck," Steve murmured, even though it wasn't okay, it might not ever be okay, but he was so overcome by fear and worry that he couldn't think of anything else to say. "It's okay. I've got you, sweetheart."_ _

_ _Bucky shuddered in his arms, overcome by another bout of sobs. Steve just pressed his lips to Bucky's forehead and kept them there, whispering promises into Bucky's skin that he didn't know if he could keep. _ _

_ _

_ _\-----_ _

_ _

_ _Bucky woke up several times during the night. Steve wasn't surprised - their position was less than comfortable, and he'd just had a traumatic experience. Steve wasn't completely sure what happened, or how it happened, but he wasn't about to ask. Bucky had probably had enough of reliving that particular memory._ _

_ _So Steve just held him, just stroked his hair and kissed his forehead, and didn't ask._ _

_ _More than once, Bucky told him to go. He stayed._ _

_ _And at ten thirty, Winnifred Barnes managed to convince Bucky to go home with Steve, and Bucky slept tucked under his shoulder the entire taxi drive to his house. _ _

_ _"Is your boyfriend okay?" the taxi driver asked, catching Steve's eye in the mirror. Steve didn't bother correcting her._ _

_ _"I don't think so," he replied, and the rest of the drive was silent._ _

_ _When the car stopped, Bucky opened his eyes blearily, looking a bit like a kitten. Steve swallowed down the lump in his throat to help Bucky out of the car and, after a moment's hesitation, he hefted Bucky into his arms and carried him to the apartment. Bucky didn't even protest - he just curled up against Steve's chest and weakly grasped onto the front of Steve's shirt. _ _

_ _Steve carried him through the apartment and to his bedroom, where he set Bucky down gently. As soon as he let go, Bucky curled into a ball. He looked very small. Steve turned away to fish out some clothes, ignoring the sting in his eyes._ _

_ _"Change into these," Steve said gently, holding out a slightly too-small pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts. Bucky took them numbly, and Steve left the room for a few minutes to give him a bit of privacy. When he got back in, Bucky had curled back up on the bed, his cheek resting on his knee. The sweatpants, while too small on Steve, flopped over Bucky's feet. _ _

_ _Steve made his way across the room to sit down on the bed, a small space between him and Bucky. Feeling hesitant, Steve reached over and took Bucky's hand, lacing their fingers together. Bucky shuddered out a breath and scooted closer, resting his head on Steve's shoulder. They stayed like that for a long time._ _

_ _"Do you like pasta?" Steve asked quietly, hours later. "I'm gonna make pasta."_ _

_ _Bucky gave him a small, watery smile, and to stop himself from doing something stupid, like kissing him, Steve got off the bed. _ _

_ _"I love pasta," Bucky murmured. Steve held out a hand and almost jumped for joy when Bucky took it. He didn't let go until they got to the main room, where Bucky sat down on the couch and Steve went into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of pots, putting the kettle on, and pulling ingredients out of the pantry. He went through the motions as quickly as he could - chopping the onion, measuring the spices, stirring the tomato sauce. He threw the pasta into the second pot with the boiling water, and it was only after he'd turned off the heat that he heard the sound of quiet crying. _ _

_ _Steve walked back over to the couch and knelt in front of Bucky, who'd curled back into a ball and was shaking with violent sobs._ _

_ _"Hey," he said softly, reaching out to place his hand on Bucky's knee._ _

_ _"It's too gentle. You're always too gentle," Bucky whispered, almost to himself. "Just hit me, _skhvatit' menya za sheyu_, rip at the stupid stump of my arm, _anything._ Yell at me instead of saying all this shit, because that's what I deserve, that's how everyone else treats me - _pochemu ty ne otnosish'sya ko mne tak_?"_ _

_ _Feeling the sting of tears in his eyes, Steve pushed Bucky's legs down from his chest and gathered him up in his arms as he sat down, and Bucky clung to his shirt tight enough that Steve was surprised the fabric didn't rip._ _

_ _"I'm so selfish, I don't deserve this," Bucky sobbed. "I don't deserve you. _YA ne zasluzhivayu lyubit' tebya_."_ _

_ _"Hey, it's okay," Steve murmured, rocking slightly. "It's okay, Buck."_ _

_ _"It's not okay, it's not okay," Bucky mumbled, and Steve was crying by then too, salty tears dripping down his cheeks and into Bucky's hair. _ _

_ _Bucky calmed down after a few minutes, but all he did was bury his face in Steve's neck and breathe in deeply. "You didn't burn the pasta, did you?" he croaked out, and Steve couldn't help but laugh._ _

_ _"I can actually cook things, y'know," he said quietly, his voice muffled by Bucky's hair._ _

_ _"Like how you cooked that popcorn?" Bucky asked, looking up at Steve with a raised eyebrow._ _

_ _"I still think that was your fault."_ _

_ _Bucky choked out a laugh and buried his face back in Steve's neck. "Of course you'd say that."_ _

_ _Steve rolled his eyes, even though he knew that Bucky couldn't see it, and slid his hands down to Bucky's thighs and stood up, barely straining against the extra weight. Bucky squeaked and tightened his grip on Steve's shirt, and it took all of Steve's willpower to not kiss him right there._ _

_ _"What are you doing?" Bucky squeaked. His face was an impressive shade of red. Steve frowned at him, ignoring the flipping in his stomach._ _

_ _"You haven't eaten for about a day, have you?" he accused, and Bucky's face went even redder. _ _

_ _"I'm fine," he mumbled._ _

_ _"You are going to eat at least one bowl of pasta if I have to spoon feed it to you," Steve threatened, and Bucky let out a strangled sound that went straight to Steve's dick. _ _

_ _"Just don't give me food poisoning, Rogers," Bucky mumbled, and leaned his head on Steve's shoulder. Steve steadfastly ignored the clear stretch of skin across Bucky's neck that was basically begging for a hickey, and just laughed, making his way through the room and towards the kitchen._ _

_ _He placed Bucky on the counter before he turned back to the stove, draining the pasta and dumping it into the sauce. They ended up eating out of the same bowl because Steve hadn't done the dishes, but Bucky didn't seem to mind that much. His body was pressed against Steve's the entire time, and it made Steve's insides warm with happiness. They ended up finishing the whole pot._ _

_ _Afterwards, Steve logged in to Netflix and pulled up the original Star Wars movie. When Bucky sat down, he snuggled in so close he was basically on Steve's lap. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist and pulled him closer, and Bucky rested his head against Steve's chest. Steve could barely pay attention to the movie, but he didn't care in the slightest. _ _

_ _"Listen, Steve," Bucky said about halfway through the movie. His voice sounded unsure, but he kept his eyes firmly trained on the TV when Steve turned to look at him. "I haven't said it yet, but I'm happy for you. Sharon is - well, I wouldn't say she's great, because she hates me - but... it looks like she makes you happy, and that's pretty great."_ _

_ _Steve blinked. "Bucky, what are you talking about?"_ _

_ _Even though Bucky wasn't looking at him, Steve could still see the eyeroll. "Dude. You. Sharon Carter. Your make out session against my locker. The fact that you two are joined at the hip. I'm not an idiot."_ _

_ _Horror rose up like bile in Steve's throat. "No, no, Buck, you've got it all wrong," he said quickly. "Sharon and I aren't dating."_ _

_ _Bucky looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and the gesture was so distinctly _Bucky_ that Steve had a hard time breathing. "You don't need to keep it from me, Steve. I'm not gonna make fun of you or anything."_ _

_ _Steve sighed. "Alright." He pinched his brow, but he could have sworn he saw Bucky brace himself - for what, he had no idea. "You weren't at school on Friday, and then I had to go to Massachusetts over the weekend and I don't think I slept at all, and then you were acting weird on Monday, and Sharon kinda pinned me against the lockers while I was waiting for you and I was definitely delirious and far too confused and sleep-deprived to do anything but just stand there, and-" _ _

_ _Steve cut himself off before he could say any more - he doubted that Bucky wanted to know about the night they'd spent together, or the aftermath. "I like Sharon, sure." At least, he did before she basically raped him. "But not like that."_ _

_ _Bucky frowned, looking completely lost. "You were literally -"_ _

_ _"Yeah, I know," Steve cut him off before he could say anymore, feeling his face heat up. Just thinking about it made shame and disgust curl in his gut. "And I know that you were a little upset -"_ _

_ _"What?" Bucky said sharply._ _

_ _"Because you and Sharon, uh... _dislike_ each other - and so even if I was interested in... dating her, I didn't want to mess up our friendship by going out with someone you don't approve of." And yeah, it was a pretty shitty excuse, but Steve couldn't find the energy to come up with something better._ _

_ _"You wouldn't go out with her because you want my approval on the person you date," Bucky repeated. His gaze was far away and confused, and it made Steve wonder what exactly he was thinking._ _

_ _"I don't want anything to change between us," Steve said, even though he knew that was a huge lie, and he couldn't be happier if they crossed that line between friends and lovers. But Bucky looked up at him with such a vulnerable and soft look on his face that Steve couldn't bring himself to take it back._ _

_ _"You don't?" Bucky asked softly, his eyes wide and hopeful. Steve brought his hand up to Bucky's neck and started rubbing circles with his thumb. Bucky leaned into the touch like an overly affectionate cat._ _

_ _ "You know, I've never been anywhere that's felt so... solid," Steve said quietly, leaning his head back on the couch. "I don't think I realised how much I wanted that until I moved here. Out of all the places I've lived, this is the one that's felt the most like home." He moved his head to look over at Bucky, who was watching him intently. "Buck... you and the others are... the best friends I've ever had. I don't want anything to change that either. I'm just... I'm just tired. Of everything around me changing all the time."_ _

_ _Steve took a deep breath, and looked Bucky straight in the eye. "I just want to stay with you."_ _

_ _Bucky's eyes widened slightly, and his pupils blew out and swallowed up the grey-blue of his irises. _ _

_ _"Me too," Bucky finally whispered. Without taking his eyes off Steve, Bucky shifted on the couch and hooked a leg over Steve's waist, settling in his lap as his arm went around Steve's neck. Steve could barely breathe, but his hands migrated to grip Bucky's waist as tight as he could. Bucky's eyes were boring into his, and it was almost electric. Bucky's weight in his lap was making Steve's body go into absolute overdrive, and it took all of his willpower to keep his dick under control. And Bucky's face was so close to his, it would barely take any effort at all to close the distance between them. To stop himself from doing something stupid, Steve pulled Bucky to his chest, running his hands up and down Bucky's back as he tried to work out the knots in the muscles. Bucky melted into the embrace, sighing contentedly into the curve of Steve's neck. Steve couldn't help the shudder that wracked through his body at the feeling of Bucky's lips on the sensitive skin of his neck._ _

_ _The movie had long since finished by the time Bucky's phone rang. Steve wasn't entirely sure how long they'd been sitting there, but he didn't want to move. Bucky apparently shared the same sentiment, because he basically dragged himself off Steve's lap. Steve took out his phone to try and give Bucky some privacy and baulked when he saw that it was already five in the evening. _ _

_ _"Okay," Bucky's voice came from the kitchen. It sounded tired. "But as soon as I wake up tomorrow, I'm going to the hospital."_ _

_ _Steve got off the couch when he saw Bucky put the phone back onto the table. He didn't turn around. _ _

_ _"Buck?" Steve asked hesitantly. Bucky looked over his shoulder, and his hair was sticking to his face from the tears that were making their way down his face again. Without saying a word, Bucky crossed the room to curl his fingers through Steve's shirt and pull him forward. For a split second, Steve was sure that he was going to kiss him, but Bucky just buried his face in Steve's neck._ _

_ _"You okay?" Steve murmured, starting to rub Bucky's back again. Bucky shuddered and leaned into him more._ _

_ _"Becca's awake," he mumbled. "Ma doesn't want me to come in until the morning, though. Says I should get some sleep first."_ _

_ _"I think I agree with her on that," Steve said gently. Bucky lifted his head to glare at him. "Buck, you fell asleep on me in the cab, and that was over six hours ago and you still haven't slept." _ _

_ _He brushed some of the hair off Bucky's face. "Please stay," Steve whispered, and he probably sounded desperate, but he didn't care._ _

_ _Bucky looked at him shrewdly. "And you're sure you're okay with me crashing here for the night?"_ _

_ _Steve had to laugh at that, and he brushed his thumb under Bucky's eye to wipe away some of the tears that were still there. "Honestly, if I had to choose anyone to crash here, it'd be you."_ _

_ _Bucky ducked his head, and Steve could see his cheeks turning faintly pink. "I just don't wanna overstay my welcome, or anything. I can always go back to my place."_ _

_ _Steve moved his hand down from Bucky's cheek to his chin and gently lifted his face. After a couple of seconds, Bucky reluctantly met Steve's eyes. "You will never overstay your welcome, Buck," Steve whispered, cupping Bucky's cheek again. "I promise."_ _

_ _Bucky reached up to press his hand against Steve's cheek. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly. "You're sure."_ _

_ _Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky's wrist. "I'm sure."_ _

_ _Bucky searched Steve's face for a few more seconds, before he nodded in satisfaction and stepped away. Steve tried not to miss the warmth of his body too much._ _

_ _"I'm going that have a shower," Bucky said. "I'll be out in ten minutes."_ _

_ _"Okay," Steve croaked. Bucky smiled at him, then stepped forward again to press a small kiss to Steve's cheek._ _

_ _"Thank you," he whispered against Steve's skin. Steve knew that he wasn't just talking about the shower._ _

_ _It took a while for Steve to unfreeze his body; long after Bucky had left the room and after Steve heard the shower turn on. When he grabbed some spare clothes and pushed them through the crack of the bathroom door, it took all of Steve's self-control to walk away and sit on his bed, and not go and join Bucky. Just the thought that Bucky was naked and soaking wet, only a couple of rooms away, and that Steve couldn't join him... Steve was having a hard time keeping his head on straight._ _

_ _To try and distract himself, Steve grabbed the book that Peggy had given him for Christmas and sat up against the headboard, opening it at the dogeared page and trying to concentrate. The words just floated off the page._ _

_ _When Bucky came in, dressed in Steve's too-big clothes and hair all fluffy, Steve felt his heart melt. Bucky didn't talk; he just crawled over Steve and pulled back the covers to lie down beside him, resting his head on Steve's thigh._ _

_ _"Stay," Bucky mumbled, his voice muffled in Steve's leg. Steve felt a soft smile make its way onto his face, and he placed his hand in Bucky's hair. It was soft and fluffy, and still a little bit wet._ _

_ _"Always, Buck," Steve murmured, and there may have been too much affection in his voice, but it wasn't like he could control those things._ _

_ _It took barely any time for Bucky to fall asleep - his breathing evened out after about half an hour. Steve brushed Bucky's hair off to one side, mapping his shoulder blades and neck with one hand. Bucky was all tanned skin and rippling muscles, the smoothness of his skin offset by the jagged scars littering his left side. _ _

_ _After a few hours, Steve put his book down and turned off the bedside light. It was far too early to be sleeping, but they'd both had a rough week. Steve scooted down the bed to rest his head on the pillow, and Bucky curled into his body as he went, hooking a leg over Steve's hip in his sleep. Steve huffed out a small laugh and gathered Bucky in his arms._ _

_ _"Night, Buck," he whispered into Bucky's hair, and pressed a small kiss to the fluffy hair that was making his nose tickle. Bucky mumbled something in Russian and kissed Steve's neck, and Steve went to sleep with the imprint of Bucky's lips on his pulse point._ _

_ _

_ _\------_ _

_ _

_ _"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Steve asked gently. He'd dropped Bucky off at the hospital at Bucky's insistence, and they'd taken the bike. The feeling of Bucky pressed against his back, holding onto him as tightly as possible, had been intoxicating. _ _

_ _"I'll be fine, Steve," Bucky said, giving him a small smile. If Steve didn't know Bucky as well as he did, he would've thought the smile was genuine. _ _

_ _"Call me if you need anything, okay?" Steve said and stepped forward to wrap his arms around Bucky's waist._ _

_ _"Stevie. I'll be alright," Bucky murmured, and pulled back slightly to look at him. "Quit your worrying."_ _

_ _Steve laughed slightly. "Sorry."_ _

_ _Bucky smiled again, but this time it looked more real. He leaned up to kiss Steve's cheek softly. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"_ _

_ _"If you come to school, yeah," Steve joked. Bucky snorted out a laugh._ _

_ _"See you then, Steve."_ _

_ _That was the last time Steve saw Bucky for almost a week._ _

_ _

_ _\-----_ _

_ _

_ _It was Friday night, and Steve was moping._ _

_ _He'd been explicitly denying that fact since Sunday when he'd left Bucky outside the hospital to visit Becca. Bucky hadn't turned up to school for the whole week, and when he'd asked Natasha about it, she'd just given him a sad look and said, "Hasn't Bucky told you? Becca died on Sunday."_ _

_ _So not only was Steve moping, because Bucky wouldn't text him back, but he was worried out of his damned mind. So when the doorbell rang, he wasn't exactly wanting to get up from his pity party and open it. But when it rang again, he sighed and dragged himself out of bed, silently cursing his dad's inability to take a key when he went out._ _

_ _"Seriously dad, you've gotta start taking a key with you," Steve said as soon as he opened the door but stopped short. It was definitely not his dad._ _

_ _"Hey Steve," Bucky mumbled. He looked good - his hair was freshly washed and done in a braid down the side of his head, he was wearing a leather jacket, and his jeans clung to his thighs in a way that should have been pornographic. In comparison, Steve looked like a hobo._ _

_ _"Bucky," Steve breathed, before he'd flung himself across the threshold and into Bucky's embrace. Bucky had let out a choked off sound before he'd clung onto Steve's shirt as tight as he could._ _

_ _Steve pulled Bucky into the apartment and closed the door behind him, before he pulled away slightly to cup Bucky's face in his hands. The skin was soft under his fingertips._ _

_ _"Baby, I was so worried about you. Are you okay?" Steve asked desperately. His hands couldn't stay still - they were brushing against Bucky's cheeks, running through his hair, down his shoulders, pressing the thumb into the pulse point at the base of Bucky's neck. Bucky reached up and framed Steve's face with his hand, stroking Steve's cheeks with a featherlight touch. Steve couldn't help but sag into the touch. _ _

_ _"I was so worried about you," Steve whispered again, and he felt tears burn behind his eyes. Bucky leaned forward and rested their foreheads together, his eyelashes brushing against Steve's cheeks._ _

_ _"I'm sorry," Bucky said softly, and his thumb brushed under Steve's eye. It came away wet. _ _

_ _"But you're doing okay?" Steve asked, brushing Bucky's hair off his face._ _

_ _"My aunt's living with us now," Bucky admitted. "She brought her kid, Alice. She's not Becca, but..." Bucky shook his head. "Ma's not doing great. She's drinking and smoking, and never leaving the house."_ _

_ _"And what about you?" Steve asked gently. Bucky looked up at him, his eyes full of tears._ _

_ _"I'm scared," he whispered. "I'm tired. I'm stressed. I just want to get out of that house."_ _

_ _"We don't have long to go now," Steve reminded him. "You're eighteen next month, and by the end of the school year you'll be able to move into that dorm with Sam you've been talking about."_ _

_ _"And what about you?" Bucky asked quietly._ _

_ _"I've enrolled in a musical composition course at the college down the street," Steve said. "And I've talked to my dad - he's going to keep paying rent for this place, even when he moves away. He says he owes it to my ma."_ _

_ _"So you're staying?" Bucky asked hopefully. Steve turned to look at him, and his face was so full of hope and happiness Steve couldn't help but smile helplessly._ _

_ _"I just turned eighteen," Steve reminded him. "I don't have to follow Dad around anymore. So even if he moves, hell yeah I'm staying."_ _

_ _Bucky beamed at him and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Good."_ _

_ _And Steve had to smile back._ _

_ _

_ _\------_ _

_ _

_ _"You don't think this is a little bit overboard?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at the diner. "Bucky isn't exactly flashy."_ _

_ _"Has he ever had something like this done for him?" Steve asked, not looking away from where he was tying up balloons. "Has he ever known how much effort people put into making him happy, because of how much they care about him?"_ _

_ _"He's got a point," Sam called out, trying desperately to not ruin the cake that he was taking out of its travel box. "Bucky won't believe that people care about him unless they hold up a sign in front of the Empire State Building. And even then he'd have doubts."_ _

_ _"And the Formal committee had leftover balloons," Steve added. _ _

_ _Natasha rolled her eyes. "Fine. But I'm not taking the blame when he hates it."_ _

_ _Bucky didn't hate it. In fact, he almost teared up when he walked through the door, even though everyone knew that Clint had told him almost immediately. The number of people who showed up seemed to surprise him too as if he couldn't believe that so many people cared about him. It made Steve's heart ache._ _

_ _Steve spent the majority of the evening keeping as busy as possible. He broke up fights, refilled half-full drinks, and introduced everyone to each other. He even put Peggy on Facetime so she could join in on the festivities from her bedroom in London. Steve knew that if he let his guard down, he'd say something or do something that he'd regret. _ _

_ _He ended up grabbing Bucky before the cake cutting anyway. "Okay, so I scoured the earth for the perfect thing, but since I couldn't find a young Josef Stalin lookalike, this was my next best option."_ _

_ _Bucky raised an eyebrow as he took the small box Steve offered, and Steve couldn't help the rise of nerves as Bucky opened it. _ _

_ _He'd gone to one of his dad's old friends who works as a jeweller, and when he'd asked for what he wanted, the older man had smiled at him, a twinkle in his eyes. "This for a girlfriend or something?" he asked, and Steve had forced a laugh._ _

_ _"Or something," he'd agreed._ _

_ _Bucky traced the small charms with a finger, his thumb brushing across the inscription at the back. His face was annoyingly hard to read._ _

_ _"Thoughts?" Steve asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. Bucky looked up at him, his expression unreadable, before he threw his arm around Steve's neck._ _

_ _"You're a sentimental dork, Rogers," Bucky murmured into his shoulder._ _

_ _Steve couldn't help but laugh, his hands curling around Bucky's hips. "So you like it?"_ _

_ _"Stevie, it's amazing. I love it." Bucky's eyes were shining._ _

_ _"Buckster! Stop gazing into Rogers' eyes and get over here! It's cake time!" Tony hollered from the other side of the room, and Pepper Potts hit him over the back of the head, making him yelp._ _

_ _"I should go," Bucky sighed, resting his forehead against Steve's. Steve reluctantly let go of Bucky's waist._ _

_ _"Yeah. I should probably break that up," Steve said, nodding over to where he'd seen Shuri and Morita arguing about something. _ _

_ _"But Steve?" Bucky suddenly said, and turned red. "Thanks. For the present. And the party. And... everything else."_ _

_ _Steve had to kiss him then; pressing his lips to Bucky's hairline and wishing that he could kiss him properly. "Yeah. Anything, Buck."_ _

_ _Bucky smiled at him and walked away, and from somewhere behind him Steve heard Dum Dum mutter something about "overreacting eighteen-year-old queers" and how he was "too old for this". Steve switched his beer to something non-alcoholic, just to be petty._ _

_ _

_ _\-----_ _

_ _

_ _To say that Steve was nervous for the End Of Year Formal was an understatement. He was buzzing with nerves, and ever since Sharon had disappeared after their very unfortunate run-in (Steve was sure that Tony had something to do with that) they'd been a little understaffed. So Steve was racing around with a clipboard, helping set up tables and chairs and sticking the stars to the floor._ _

_ _"And you're sure there's one for everyone?" he asked. Valkyrie rolled her eyes._ _

_ _"Yes, Steve. I double-checked the last time you asked. And then I checked again," she said. "Seriously, you're so riled up you're setting everyone on edge."_ _

_ _"Sorry," Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm just a bit stressed."_ _

_ _"If this is about Barnes, so help me," Valkyrie groaned. "Dude, just tell him how you feel."_ _

_ _"I don't know if he feels the same way, though!" Steve protested._ _

_ _"The guy looks at you like you hold the universe in your hands," Valkyrie pointed out. "He looks at everyone else like they've just kicked his puppy."_ _

_ _"I'll think about it, okay?" Steve said, basically just pleading with her to go away. Valkyrie rolled her eyes again. _ _

_ _"You'd better. I'm gonna check that Loki hasn't stabbed Thor again," she said, and Steve felt his face go pale._ _

_ _"You didn't put him in charge of the cutlery, did you?"_ _

_ _"I'm not that stupid, Rogers."_ _

_ _Eventually, they all went home to get ready. Steve struck gold with his costume - he never would have thought that he'd find an honest-to-god Captain America suit. If there was anything that screamed war propaganda more than Uncle Sam and the sexual Navy pinups, it was Captain America, with his stupid red-white-and-blue fashion disaster of a jumpsuit, and a glamourized dinner plate as his only weapon. What an idiot. _ _

_ _When Steve got back to the school, it admittedly looked pretty good, in a tacky way. Thor was standing out front with Loki, taking pictures, and it looked like nobody had suffered any stab wounds yet._ _

_ _"My friend!" Thor boomed as soon as he saw Steve. "Is it not a wonderful night?"_ _

_ _"Hey Thor," Steve said, trying to keep the smile from his face. "How's photo duty going?"_ _

_ _"Loki has not yet taken his knives out!" Thor said cheerfully._ _

_ _"Keyword is 'yet'," Loki muttered from beside him. _ _

_ _"Just don't get blood on the carpet," Steve sighed, knowing that was about as good as he was going to get. "It'll be a bitch to clean off. And you'd probably get a lawsuit, if not prison."_ _

_ _"For staining the carpet?" It took Steve a couple of seconds to realise that Loki was being serious._ _

_ _"For stabbing someone, Loki. That's illegal," Steve reminded him._ _

_ _"Technicalities," Loki said, with a wave of his hand. Steve decided to leave them alone, to make sure he wasn't an accomplice to a homicide. _ _

_ _The inside of the gym had almost finished being set up, the only things still needing work being the old-fashioned snack station and the DJ stand. _ _

_ _Steve went over to help Gamora with the popcorn, and by the time they were finished people had started arriving. Gamora rolled her eyes at him._ _

_ _"If I see your boy, I'll tell you, okay? Now go help with the balloons - someone keeps popping them," she said, and Steve felt his face heat up._ _

_ _"Thanks," he mumbled, and made his escape as quickly as he could without it seeming weird. By Gamora's unimpressed look, he did not succeed._ _

_ _It was another half hour before Gamora sidled up to him, a grin on her face._ _

_ _"Why are you looking so chipper?" Steve asked, busy putting up more balloons to replace the ones that had been popped._ _

_ _"I just stopped my boyfriend from being killed, and he's gonna eat me out in the bathroom as a thank you," she said cheerfully._ _

_ _"I did not need to know that."_ _

_ _"Also, your boyfriend's here."_ _

_ _Steve almost fell off the ladder he was perched on. Gamora rolled her eyes and walked off - presumably to the bathrooms. Steve got off the ladder to prevent future injuries and looked around the gym._ _

_ _It was a lot more crowded than when he'd last looked, and it took him a while to spot the familiar shock of badly dyed blonde hair that Pietro swore up and down made him look like a Russian sex god. Next to Pietro stood Wanda, who was leaning up on her toes to kiss someone's cheek. And Steve's heart basically stopped, because _there was no way that was Bucky.__ _

_ _Bucky was wearing a blue jacket that hugged his frame perfectly, paired with dark pants that hung low on his hips and shin-high combat boots. His sleeve was pinned up with a silver brooch of some kind, and there was a fake (Steve was guessing) rifle slung over his shoulder. His hair was half up, the left side braided almost professionally, while the right side was kept loose. _ _

_ _As if he was in a dream, Steve crossed the gym floor, watching as Pietro grabbed Wanda's hand and they skipped off together._ _

_ _"Well?" Steve found himself saying as soon as he was close enough to be heard over the music. "Does it gain your stamp of approval?"_ _

_ _Bucky turned to look at him, eyes dragging up and down Steve's body. Then he laughed, and it was as if the sun shone out of every part of him._ _

_ _"Dude. You came as Captain fucking America?" Bucky wheezed, and Steve felt himself grin._ _

_ _"I was trying to find the most ridiculous costume I could. I wanted to be a piece of war propaganda - I was gonna go for just a caricature of a Nazi - but then I saw this on Amazon and I couldn't resist."_ _

_ _"You look like freedom personified," Bucky deadpanned, but his eyes were gleaming. "The only other thing you need is a huge American flag and a bald eagle on your shoulder."_ _

_ _Steve laughed. "And dude, you look amazing. Who did your hair?" Steve wasn't sure if he wanted to punch them or kiss them._ _

_ _"Shuri. I think she's secretly an evil genius, or a witch, or something like that. I think I just sold my soul to her." Bucky grimaced, and Steve laughed again. _ _

_ _"I should probably thank her. Even if you did sell your soul, you look good enough to stroll into Hell and take it right back."_ _

_ _Bucky's cheeks went that beautiful red that Steve loved so much, "I feel like I underestimated your superpowers. The place looks awesome," Bucky said. "I'm not wishing even a little bit for the place to be invaded by soul-sucking superhumans."_ _

_ _"Despite the glitter?" Steve asked teasingly, and Bucky rolled his eyes._ _

_ _"Yes, Stevie," he sighed. "Despite the glitter."_ _

_ _Steve would have kissed him then if Valkyrie hadn't run up and whispered in his ear._ _

_ _"If you're done trying to get into Barnes's pants, we have a situation concerning Drax and Taylor Swift," she whispered, and Steve groaned._ _

_ _Bucky was watching with a raised eyebrow. "Ugh. I've gotta go, Buck," Steve said reluctantly. "Apparently some members of the music committee missed the nothing-past-the-2000's memo. I've already heard far too much Taylor Swift."_ _

_ _"Better go before there actually is a dance-scene homicide," Bucky deadpanned, and Steve grinned. _ _

_ _"I'll see you later, Buck."_ _

_ _When he was walking with Valkyrie back to the DJ stand, she whispered to him, "He's checking out your ass in this suit, by the way."_ _

_ _The rest of the night passed in a blur of sparkles, flashing cameras, and bad music. Steve took every single chance he got to sneak away from his responsibilities (story of his life) to get back to his friends, and at one point he found himself posing while pretending to punch Pietro, to Loki and Bucky's utter delight._ _

_ _It was hours later when the playlist had been changed from the normal dance music to something more romantic and relaxing when Steve went off to find Bucky. He'd seen Sam and T'Challa sneak off giggling, and Clint and Natasha were doing a very impressive waltz on the dance floor. The others had disappeared. _ _

_ _Steve found Bucky at a table near the back, his legs stretched out and looking pensive. The low light cast shadows across his face that accented his perfect jawline and sharp cheekbones._ _

_ _"Have you been hiding in this corner the whole time?" Steve asked accusingly, putting his hands on his hips. "I've been looking for you, y'know."_ _

_ _Bucky looked up at him, eyes half-lidded. "And why have you been looking for me?"_ _

_ _"Jamie, I know your status on dancing, and how you'd rather die than have fun, yadda yadda. But it's the end of the year, and I'm not leaving until you dance with me at least once."_ _

_ _Steve held out his hand. Bucky looked at it warily for a few seconds, before he took it. Steve pulled him up, and Bucky was suddenly pressed against his chest. Steve let go of Bucky's hand to hold onto his hips, and Bucky's fingers curled over the star on the front of Steve's uniform._ _

_ _"You know you gotta move when you dance, right?" Steve asked teasingly. Bucky looked up at him, a million different emotions running through his face._ _

_ _"Stevie..." _ _

_ _"Jamie, you know what I'll have to do if you don't start moving with me, don't you?" Steve asked, leaning in slightly. Bucky's face turned red._ _

_ _"What?" he asked, sounding flustered._ _

_ _"You. Here. In a corner, refusing to move. I can and I will pull you into a very embarrassing and ridiculously uncoordinated tango, and I'll have you know I have no idea how to tango."_ _

_ _Bucky tightened his grip on Steve's costume, his fingernails creasing the rough material. "Steve..."_ _

_ _"I'll give you the count of five," Steve warned, not able to keep the stupid grin off his face. _ _

_ _"Steve, I'm sort of... a little bit..."_ _

_ _"Are you really gonna let me get down to one?"_ _

_ _"A little bit, completely in love with you."_ _

_ _It was as if time stopped. Not for anyone else, but for Steve. Bucky had his eyes trained on the stupid star on Steve's stupid costume, and his knuckles were white. He looked terrified._ _

_ _"What did you say?" Steve whispered. It had to be a joke. It couldn't be real. There was no way it was true. Bucky closed his eyes and stepped away, his lips twisted into a grimace. Steve couldn't stop his hands from falling from Bucky's hips and hanging limply at his side._ _

_ _"I said I'm in love with you," Bucky said, not looking at him. "And I've tried not to be, I really have, but it's completely useless. And I know that you don't feel the same way about me, god knows I know, but I had to tell you because... Jesus, you're all I think about. And I know that sounds kinda weird and creepy, but it's the truth, and I wish to god it wasn't, and I miss you whenever I'm not with you, but, Steve... you're one of the best friends I've ever had. You're smart and amazing and weird and talented and probably the most beautiful person I've ever met."_ _

_ _Steve was frozen to the spot, barely able to move. He wanted to speak, to close the distance between them and kiss Bucky senseless because Bucky loved him, he felt the same way as Steve did, but Steve just stood there like an idiot._ _

_ _"Before I met you, I just kinda wanted to fast-forward through my life and run away and never look back at this stupid school and the stupid people in it, but you made me actually wanna get out of bed every morning," Bucky said, and yeah, those were definitely tears glistening in his eyes. "And I know that's pathetic, and I know that you probably don't wanna hear my ridiculous love confession. And... And no matter where you go, or however you feel about me... I feel like you made my whole life move. And I...I love you forever for that."_ _

_ _Steve managed to take a small step forward, but Bucky was already turning away. "That's all I wanted to say. I'm... I'm gonna go now."_ _

_ _And he walked away. And Steve was standing in the middle of a school dance, wearing a Captain America suit with a dinner plate on his back, watching Bucky walk away. _ _

_ _It took a few minutes for Steve to regain control of his body, and he collapsed onto the chair that Bucky had vacated barely ten minutes before. Steve ran a hand through his hair and realised that it was shaking. _ _

_ _"Steve?"_ _

_ _Steve looked up. Clint and Natasha were looking down at him, worry clear on their faces._ _

_ _"What was that about?" Clint asked, his eyes wide. "We saw the whole thing."_ _

_ _Steve opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and tried again. "He loves me," Steve finally croaked out._ _

_ _Natasha's eyes widened imperceptibly. "He told you?"_ _

_ _"He just left. He didn't give me a chance to say anything," Steve said numbly._ _

_ _"He always was crazy dramatic," Clint muttered, and Natasha stepped on his foot._ _

_ _"So what are you gonna do?" she prompted._ _

_ _"I feel like we're in a cliché movie," Clint whined. "You're even saying all the right things. What's next - _I'm gonna go after him,_ running into the rain, a tearful, heartfelt reunion scene complete with confessions and shoving your tongues down each other's throats?"_ _

_ _Steve looked up at them, anger starting to flicker in his gut. "He loves me. And he just left."_ _

_ _"Barnes sure knows how to pick 'em," Clint muttered. Natasha turned around and walked off, throwing her hands up in exasperation._ _

_ _"Get your man, Rogers," Clint sighed, before following his girlfriend. _ _

_ _Steve stood up and stalked out of the gym, exasperation clawing at his chest. Bucky loved him. He loved Steve - actually loved him. And he said this whole beautiful speech, and he then dared to think that Steve didn't feel the same way, and then he just left. If it wasn't for that absolute idiot, they would probably already be in bed together, and Steve would know what Bucky's lips tasted like._ _

_ _Steve got back to his apartment and ignored his dad, knocked out on the couch, as he made his way to his room. If he was going to go and see Bucky, he wasn't going to be wrapped up in an American flag. Steve got dressed quickly, then grabbed his motorbike helmet from his desk and left again, his dad not noticing. It was late - around 12:45, but despite that, there was still traffic. _ _

_ _Steve knew Bucky - if he was going to go anywhere, it would be back home. So Steve was pulling up at the Barnes's apartment complex after one in the morning, not even caring if his bike was too loud, or if he woke up the neighbours. Practically taking the stairs two at a time, Steve didn't give any warning before he started knocking. And, because it was Bucky, it took him forever to come and open the door._ _

_ _Steve had to actually will his anger to come back when he saw Bucky - he looked so soft, and so miserable, that Steve was having a hard time staying mad at him. His hair was still in its braid._ _

_ _"Hi."_ _

_ _And just like that, Steve's anger came back full-force. "That's all you have to say to me?"_ _

_ _"You're upset."_ _

_ _"Of course I'm upset, you idiot!"_ _

_ _Bucky lowered his head and nodded, leaning against the doorframe in a way that made it seem like he couldn't hold himself up. "I'm sorry," he whispered, so quiet that Steve could barely hear it._ _

_ _"You're not even gonna ask why I'm pissed?" Steve snapped, folding his arms. He knew that he was probably being unfair, but he didn't care._ _

_ _"Because some idiot thought you might want to know his pathetic feelings for you?" Bucky mumbled, and that filled Steve with such rage that he realised they probably shouldn't be having this conversation in the hallway. So Steve pushed his way into the apartment and threw his helmet to the ground, praying that there was nobody else home._ _

_ _"No! It's because you said those things to me, and then you _disappeared!_" Steve yelled. "You told me that you were in love with me, and then left me standing in the middle of a dirty, high school gym wearing a spangled, patriotic jumpsuit surrounded by spiked punch and about five hundred Marilyn Monroe's?!"_ _

_ _"I feel like you're exaggerating the amount of Marilyn's," Bucky murmured, closing the door softly. Steve crossed his arms and glared. Bucky looked up at him and sighed. "I didn't know what else to do."_ _

_ _"Yeah, well, that's just the story of your life, isn't it?" Steve sneered. Bucky's shoulders stiffened, and he spun around to stick his finger in Steve's face, a look of absolute fury on his face._ _

_ _"No, you know what? I'm surprised I managed to not say anything as long as I did," Bucky snapped. "Do you have any idea how long I've felt like this? And how many damned things I've been through this year to let my guard down, it was a fucking _miracle_ I didn't open my fat gob until now!" Bucky huffed, wiping furiously at the tears that were starting to make their way down his face. "You were there for me when my dad died, when Becca died, when my ma was so deep in alcohol she could barely think! You looked at my drawings and said that I was amazing, you managed to get me onto a _beach,_ for fuck's sake! And yeah, I get it. I fucking deserve this, because I have done absolutely nothing for you compared to what you've done for me. So sure, don't let me stop you from yelling your heart out at my stupidity, and my dumb emotions!"_ _

_ _"Well, how about you shut up and let me yell my heart out at your stupidity?" Steve growled. Bucky glared at him._ _

_ _"You know what? I'm not gonna listen to this," Bucky muttered, and Steve didn't know whether he wanted to kiss him or slam him against a wall. "I know everything you're about to say, and I've already put myself through it about a billion times over. So I get it." Bucky ran a hand through his hair and turned away._ _

_ _"No, you know what? You're gonna listen to this, because if anyone is gonna help you pull your head out of your ridiculously attractive ass, it's gonna be me!" Steve grabbed Bucky's shoulder and turned him back around, and Bucky was back crowding his space, getting up in his face defensively, throwing the hand off his shoulder, and Steve was reminded painfully how much he loved this boy._ _

_ _"Then do enlighten me, Rogers," Bucky snarled. "Tell me exactly what's so important that it has you running over to my apartment at fucking ass o'clock."_ _

_ _Steve took in a harsh breath, and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Would you just shut up for ten seconds for me to tell you that I love you back?! Because it seems that I have to literally spell it out for you to understand - it's either that or me showing up at three in the morning with my guitar and a huge bouquet of roses, and I gotta say I don't really want your neighbours to hear my singing," Steve snapped. "I made you invite me to your house for a study group, even though - you know what? I'm pretty fucking good at studying on my own! When I went away, you were the only person I wanted to talk to! You were the first person I came to see after I came back! I _sang_ in front of you, Barnes - do you have any idea how much that took? I have never let anyone see that part of me before I met you, and - oh hell - I feel like I've been running across the entire world to find you!"_ _

_ _All the anger drained out of him, and Steve couldn't help but laugh, dragging his hand across his face. Bucky was looking at him with wide, watery eyes, his bottom lip shaking. He was the most gorgeous thing that Steve had ever seen._ _

_ _"You... You're funny and smart and you have a giant heart that you don't even pretend to hide," Steve went on, and he felt the burn of tears behind his eyes. "And you love your friends and your family, and you let me hold you and you kissed my cheek and made me sing even though I was so scared I thought I was gonna die. And I knew that you understood pain and grief because you've been through them a thousand times over, and you're the strongest person I've ever met because you keep going, even when you lose a part of yourself."_ _

_ _Bucky stepped towards him, reaching out to shakily touch Steve's cheek. Steve let him come closer, close enough that their chests were almost touching. "And you took your shirt off when we were at the beach, and you weren't ashamed of your body and you didn't care what people thought about you. And your face lights up when you talk about drawing or painting or any of the things that you love."_ _

_ _And Bucky was crying, too; big droplets that ran down his face and dripped onto his ratty, too-big T-shirt, so Steve reached up with one hand to brush them away. _ _

_ _"And - and you protect your friends," Steve croaked out, feeling his own tears start to fall. His free hand had curled itself around Bucky's hip, pulling him closer so their chests were touching, and Bucky's face was so close it would barely take anything to close the distance. _ _

_ _"And you weren't afraid to speak up and say that you thought my dad was a dickhead. And you let Brock Rumlow slam you into lockers for years because if he wasn't beating you up, he'd do something to Sam or Clint or Nat. And there's a little dimple on your chin when you smile that's so cute I almost died when I first saw it. And you don't give a damn what other people think about you, and you let Shuri do your hair and you let Natasha take you shopping and you listen to Clint's terrible slam poetry." Steve knew that he was babbling by now, but he was just so full of love and admiration for the beautiful boy in front of him that he would rather die than have Bucky think he didn't care about him. "And when you saw me and Sharon together, I spent two days lying on my bedroom floor listening to Air Supply and cursing myself, because I'd just shown you that I was the exact same as the rest of those guys that pushed you around your whole life because they're too scared that you're gonna be a better man than them, but they don't know that you're already better than they would ever be, and-"_ _

_ _Bucky leaned forward and kissed him._ _

_ _Bucky kissed him, his hand curling and trying to get a grip on Steve's short hair, sloppy and desperate and incredible. And Steve never would have thought that a kiss could be so wonderful. And tears were running down both their faces, mixing in with their kisses and open mouths and making them taste salty. It was too much and not enough at the same time - absolutely overwhelming but Steve needed more. He ran his hands up Bucky's shirt, mapping the bare skin under his fingers with as much reverence as he could stand, trying to convey all of his emotions into the kiss. And there was too much space between them, so Steve pressed Bucky against the wall and leaned into him, and Bucky didn't seem to mind because he moaned and rolled his hips slowly into Steve's. And suddenly it was all too much, and Steve's senses were in overdrive and he couldn't breathe, so he leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss. Bucky chased his lips, a soft whine escaping, and Steve couldn't help but lean in for one more kiss, just a faint brush of lips that was still enough to set Steve's nerves on fire._ _

_ _"Stevie," Bucky breathed out, reaching to press his hand against Steve's cheek. His eyes were wide and filled with awe, his lips red and swollen._ _

_ _"Have I dislodged your head from your ass yet?" Steve breathed, reaching up to cup Bucky's cheek in his hand._ _

_ _"Are you still mad at me?" Bucky countered. Steve's mind took a little while to process the question - he was so happy he was high on it._ _

_ _"Yes."_ _

_ _"Why?" Bucky exclaimed, and Steve smiled helplessly. God, he was so helpless._ _

_ _"Well, we could've been doing this a long time ago, if you were quicker on your feet."_ _

_ _"It's a two-way street, y'know," Bucky murmured, his fingers trailing down from Steve's cheek to caress his tattoo, flicking Steve's T-shirt out of the way. Bucky's slim fingers on his skin made Steve groan softly, and he pressed his full body weight up against Bucky, brushing his lips against Bucky's forehead, then his cheek, then that incredible jawline that made his knees go weak. Bucky moaned and let his head fall back against the wall when Steve mouthed at a spot just under his ear, and then Bucky's fingers were at the buttons of Steve's shirt, undoing them until Steve's shirt was open at the chest. Bucky ran his fingers across Steve's bare skin, rubbing and splaying his fingers flat. Steve buried his hand in Bucky's hair - still so soft - and pulled slightly, making Bucky gasp and pull him back into another kiss. _ _

_ _"I didn't know you were interested," Steve mumbled against Bucky's lips. "I do have dignity, y'know. And I was so sure you'd freak out if you knew how I felt. And... I guess I just wasn't brave enough."_ _

_ _Bucky shivered. "I thought I was being pretty obvious," he said breathlessly. "You know, with the lovestruck staring and letting you call me Jamie and the fact that I basically never let anyone touch me, but I loved it when you did."_ _

_ _Warmth pooled low in Steve's gut, and he had to lean in and take that bright red bottom lip between his teeth and pull gently, and Steve was pretty sure that Bucky would have just collapsed if he wasn't being held up between Steve's body and the wall. _ _

_ _"Yeah, well I'm not exactly the most perceptive person," Steve breathed, and Bucky laughed breathlessly. "I just can't believe you didn't know..." He trailed off. _ _

_ _Bucky pulled away slightly to look him in the eye, his finger tracing Steve's bottom lip. "What?" he asked softly._ _

_ _Steve felt his face heat up, but he couldn't help but smile. This was the man that he got to love - this was the person he wanted to spend his every waking moment with. Steve Rogers was the luckiest damn son of a bitch on the planet. "I can't believe you couldn't see that I was crazy in love with you."_ _

_ _Bucky leaned forward and rested his head in the curve of Steve's neck, and Steve could feel Bucky's grin on his skin. "Say that again."_ _

_ _Steve had to laugh then, and tightened his grip slightly. "I'm crazy in love with you."_ _

_ _Bucky looked up, and the smile on his face was so full of joy that Steve almost swooned. "Well, I think I'm crazy in love with you, too."_ _

_ _Steve felt his face crack into a goofy grin, and he leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. He'd stay in this moment forever, if he could. Bucky leaned forward and pressed his lips back to Steve's, and the kiss was open-mouthed and uncoordinated and perfect. Steve ran his fingers back up Bucky's shirt, brushing his fingers against Bucky's nipples. Bucky positively melted, breaking away from Steve's mouth to let out a breathy moan. Steve couldn't help but smile as he slowly pushed Bucky's shirt up and over his head, and attached his lips to one of his nipples. Bucky's legs gave out, and Steve had to catch him to make sure he didn't fall to the ground._ _

_ _"You like that, huh?" Steve crooned. Bucky glared at him, but then a sly smile crossed his features and he reached between them, cupping Steve's dick through his pants, and Steve forgot his own name._ _

_ _"I'll show you what else I like," Bucky growled, and shoved Steve off him hard enough that Steve stumbled on the way back. Then Bucky had grabbed Steve's wrist and was pulling him down the hall to his bedroom, slamming Steve up against the door to close it and smashing their lips together. Steve buried his hands in Bucky's hair, the strands wrapping around his fingers and sliding across his palms. Bucky gripped Steve by the front of the shirt and started walking backwards, turning them around at the last minute so the back of Steve's knees hit the mattress and he sat down on the edge. Steve grabbed Bucky by the hips and pulled him forward, and Bucky straddled his hips and pulled Steve's shirt up and off, scrunching it into a ball and throwing it behind him. _ _

_ _"You are so beautiful," Steve breathed. He curled his hands around Bucky's thighs and stood up, taking Bucky with him. Bucky gasped and wrapped his arm around Steve's neck tightly, and didn't let go when Steve started crawling up the bed to place Bucky down with his head on the pillow._ _

_ _"Lube's in the second drawer," Bucky said breathlessly, his eyes wide and pupils blown. Steve opened the second drawer and grabbed the small container, throwing it onto the bed beside them._ _

_ _"We don't need it just yet," he said, his voice rough. Bucky growled and grabbed Steve's ass, pressing his hips against Steve's and grinding. _ _

_ _"If you don't get something inside me right now Rogers, I'm gonna flip you onto your back and do it myself," he growled, and _wow_ that was really doing things to Steve's body. Bucky seemed to notice because his lips curled into a sly smile. "Is that what you want, Stevie? Do you want me to hold you down, make you watch as I finger myself, not let you touch me? Would you keep your hands still? Would I have to tie you up? Would you be able to control yourself once I sunk onto your cock?" _ _

_ _As Bucky spoke, his hand was pushing down his sweatpants, and Steve almost drooled when he realised that Bucky wasn't wearing underwear. Bucky was nipping at his neck and grinding against his dick, and undoing his pants, and whispering the dirtiest things into his ear, and Steve wasn't sure how much longer he'd last. Steve let out a desperate moan, pressing his face into the crook of Steve's neck. _ _

_ _"Come on, Stevie," Bucky purred, getting his hand around Steve's dick. "You going to do something, or do I have to do it myself?"_ _

_ _Steve leaned up to press a bruising kiss to Bucky's lips, before flipping him onto his stomach. Bucky gasped at the sudden change of position but pushed himself up onto his knees, his face still pressed into the pillow._ _

_ _"Like I said," Steve murmured, kissing Bucky's shoulder. "We don't need the lube just yet."_ _

_ _Steve trailed kisses down Bucky's back, getting his hands on every part of him he could. Bucky had turned his head to watch, and Steve made sure to catch his eye before he swiped his tongue across Bucky's hole. _ _

_ _"_Oh my god,_" Bucky moaned, canting his hips backwards. "Jesus, _Stevie_ -"_ _

_ _"I've got you, Buck," Steve murmured, sliding his hands up to rest on Bucky's thighs. "God, you don't know how often I've thought about this."_ _

_ _"Then do enlighten me," Bucky gasped out. Steve reached for the lube and watched the muscles of Bucky's hole contract as the cool lotion dripped down his crack. Steve gathered up the lube with his middle finger and started pressing at the ring of muscle._ _

_ _"You want me to tell you about all the times I've thought of eating your ass out until lube and spit are dribbling down my chin?" Steve purred, pushing the finger in up to the second knuckle. "You want me to tell you about how I'd spend hours just opening you up, making you come over and over again before I get properly inside you? Believe me, Sam's gonna wish he'd never moved in with you when we're having sex on your kitchen counter."_ _

_ _"Stevie, please," Bucky whined, his breath coming in short pants. "Come on, I need more. Give me more."_ _

_ _Steve obediently slid a second finger in, curving them and scissoring Bucky open, trying to find the places that would make him scream. After a few minutes of two fingers, Steve slid in a third, and Bucky keened, arching off the bed hypnotically, his body all coiled muscles and raw strength. Steve's dick was almost throbbing with need, and it took both hardly any time and forever for Bucky to feel tight enough._ _

_ _"You got condoms?" Steve asked breathlessly. Bucky groaned, and shook his head. _ _

_ _"I don't, but I know that I'm clean," he said, before he blushed. "You're the first person I've ever done this with."_ _

_ _"You're a virgin?" Steve asked in surprise. _ _

_ _"And you were the first person I kissed," Bucky said, his face bright red. "It just didn't seem worth it until now."_ _

_ _"What changed?" Steve whispered._ _

_ _"I found the right partner."_ _

_ _And Steve leaned down and kissed Bucky as hard and deep as he could, because his heart was soaring and he was so in love it was ridiculous._ _

_ _"Lucky for us, the last time I was here I saw a pack in your ma's bathroom."_ _

_ _Bucky looked up at him in horror. "Why does my ma have condoms in her bathroom?"_ _

_ _"I don't know!" Steve said defensively. "She's not home, is she?"_ _

_ _"No, she's out for the night," Bucky said, then swatted Steve's shoulder. "Now hurry up, I needed you inside me like, yesterday."_ _

_ _Steve laughed, and pressed another kiss to Bucky's mouth before he got up and made his way to Winnifred's bathroom. The condoms were in the same place as the last time, and Steve silently celebrated as he grabbed one and made his way back to the bedroom as quickly as possible. Bucky was sprawled on his back with his legs wide apart, leisurely pumping three fingers inside himself._ _

_ _"You took too long," was his only comment._ _

_ _"I was literally as fast as I could be," Steve said, and crawled over the bed to kiss the stupid smirk off Bucky's face. He rolled the condom on, hissing at the friction on his oversensitive cock. Bucky pulled Steve down to nip at his ear._ _

_ _"Next time, I wanna ride you," Bucky whispered, and Steve shuddered._ _

_ _"Yeah, we can definitely do that," he said weakly. Bucky grinned at him, and poured lube onto Steve's cock, stroking him with quick flicks of his wrist._ _

_ _"Alright, Stevie, c'mon. I'm ready, let's go," Bucky said in a wrecked tone, and Steve groaned softly before he lined himself up at Bucky's entrance and slowly pushed in. It was like nothing Steve had ever felt - sure, he'd had sex before, but those other times were absolutely nothing compared to being inside Bucky. He was tight and hot and wet around Steve's dick, and when Steve had bottomed out he had to catch his breath, completely overwhelmed by the feeling._ _

_ _"God, Buck..." Steve choked out. Bucky whined softly and wrapped his arm loosely around Steve's neck._ _

_ _"Come on, Stevie," Bucky whispered. Steve slowly started rocking into him, barely moving, but it was so completely overwhelming that they both moaned, and Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve, keeping him fully inside. "Stay all the way in. Please," Bucky choked. Steve could only nod and leaned down to kiss Bucky deeply, slowly grinding his cock inside Bucky. It was slow and sensuous, and it made Steve fall deeper in love._ _

_ _"I love you. So much," Steve whispered into Bucky's lips._ _

_ _"God, Stevie, I love you too," Bucky said breathlessly. _ _

_ _They weren't kissing anymore, more panting into each other's mouths as they both got closer to their climax. Steve reached between them to wrap his fingers around Bucky's cock, smearing the precome around the head and using it as lube. It was only a few strokes later when Bucky was coming, head tilted back and mouth open in ecstasy, his breath coming in little pants and whines. Steve kept moving inside him, but when he tried to pull out Bucky just held on tighter. _ _

_ _"Stay inside me," he whispered. "I want to feel you come."_ _

_ _"I'm wearing a condom, Buck," Steve reminded him._ _

_ _"I don't care."_ _

_ _Bucky's eyes were half-open, lidded with exhaustion, but he stroked his hand through Steve's hair as he came, and helped Steve ride out the orgasm until his dick had stopped twitching._ _

_ _"Throw that thing in the bed, and come cuddle with me," Bucky mumbled. Steve obediently took off the condom and threw it in the bin, then mopped up Bucky's come from their stomachs with some tissues. When he was done, he climbed under the covers next to Bucky, who snuggled up and threw a leg over Steve's._ _

_ _"You have no idea how happy I am that I can do this," Steve mumbled. Bucky looked up at him and pressed a small kiss to his mouth._ _

_ _"I think I do," he said, smiling softly. "Now go to sleep, and I'll make us breakfast in the morning."_ _

_ _And as Bucky rested his head in the crook of Steve's neck, and they stayed wrapped together the entire night, Steve finally realised that they were going to be okay._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
moya lyubov' - my love  
uspokoysya lyubov' - calm down, love  
Ty idiot - you're an idiot  
moy dorogoy - my darling  
Vyglyadish' potryasayushche - you look amazing  
skhvatit' menya za sheyu - grab my neck  
pochemu ty ne otnosish'sya ko mne tak - why don't you treat me like that  
YA ne zasluzhivayu lyubit' tebya - I don't deserve to love you


End file.
